Damaged Souls
by Jonuts
Summary: Decades after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione makes the ultimate sacrifice to save Harry, pushing him from their dying world. Haunted by nightmares of his past, can Harry move on enough to save his new home? Can he keep his promise to protect her? Or will this new world burn just like his last one? Mainly H/Hr, but not exclusively.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Be warned all ye who enter here...err, read this story. Language, violence, gore, sexual situations, murder, death, genocide, infanticide, sex (But no full on lemons), some of it certainly objectionable. This is a story where bad things happen to bad people. And good people. And people in general. **

**CHAPTER 1**

_Hermione Granger, October 31st, 2060_

Time was up. She knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Time. If only she had more time. More time, more people, more resources. Ignoring the screams, the gunfire, the spellfire, she kept walking, dragging her burden with her. They wouldn't hold them off for much longer.

Another explosion rocked the building, the roar of the jet providing close air support drowned out all other noises for a few moments, before giving way to an inhuman screech. More screams, as part of the ceiling collapsed, crushing one of the precious few remaining defenders. With each step, she could feel her heartbeat getting weaker. The steady thump from the mortar rounds coursed through her body stronger than her pulse did. The only thing keeping her from bleeding out was the chunk of metal impaled through her. Even all the rituals to enhance her strength, speed, resilience, healing, and numerous other factors, couldn't keep her going much longer. Without such enhancements, she would have already died.

"It's alright 'Mione, just leave me...we don't both have to die..." Like everything else, she ignored the voice. Even _He_ wasn't going to stop her from completing her final task. Steadily, she moved on, hand firmly gripping the carrying handle on the back of His armored vest. Already, long imprinted compulsions took effect over her. A fail safe she built into her own self.

"Mione...leave me...even you can't save me..." Maybe if she hadn't spent the past couple decades lying to Him, that statement would be true. She never did tell Him. The entire purpose of the MAGI project was just that. To save Him. Maybe she was selfish enough to hope it would be able to save her as well. At the least, a small part of her. In her musings, she never noticed that her heart stopped.

"Please...I can't watch you die for me..." More troops rushed past. She waved them off when they stopped to help her. This was her burden. Hers, and hers alone. If they didn't involve themselves here, they would only die. There were much worse things than death. All they could do buy her more time. Mere magic and technology were never meant to fight such things. It wouldn't be long now until one of humanity's few effective weapons could be deployed. She already overheard the fire support specialist call in the strike.

Thankfully, He stopped pleading with her. Sweet death claimed Him. As much as it hurt her to even think it, she was glad he finally died. He wouldn't be alive to see her final sins. He was fortunate enough to die still believing in her humanity. Just a few hundred more feet, to where she needs to go. Already she could hear the gunfire and spellfire dying off. Time. She needed more time if she was to save him.

"STARLIGHT ROUNDS INBOUND! DANGER CLOSE! DANGER CLOSE!"

The world went white. Then black. She never let go of Him as they were violently thrown. Getting back up, she opened her eyes. Black. Nothing but black. She was blind. No matter. Magic would guide her. She could feel where she needed to be. How couldn't she? It was only the greatest beacon of magic the world had ever seen. He must have known it existed. He was never as stupid as He pretended to be. _"It was a hell of a ride Mione...just leave my body."_

Noble idiot. Even beyond the grave, He still tells her to save herself. Since she trapped his soul into his body, it was certainly an impressive trick, but she wouldn't be dissuaded. Harry always did that, the impossible. He bent and broke rules of magic at a whim. The rules never truly existed for him to begin with, and then he took command of the elder wand. Decades of using it, and it's traits rubbed off on him. Effortlessly, he would violate the rules of magic as if they didn't exist, no longer needing the Elder Wand to perform feats of magic that should be utterly impossible.

"_I'm dead Hermione. Please, don't throw your life away. It doesn't have to end here."_

The world had already ended, it just didn't realize it yet. It'd be a few years yet, before civilization truly falls, and maybe even decades before the final die off, but there was no preventing it. That which broke Atlantis had returned. Even now, the military power of the world paled in comparison to what Atlantis wielded. Only the most optimistic portrayal of history could say that Atlantis won it's final war. It merely succeeded in not losing completely.

Finally, she arrived at her destination. The wall melted away, allowing her access, then resealed as she passed through. What troops were still alive wouldn't care about being abandoned. They were all too happy to die for their lady. Another thing she never told Him. This project was too important to let it be guarded by those that could have any agenda besides her own. She did it for Him.

"_I always knew 'Mione. I knew long before, just what you became. I just didn't care. Though I never realized just how far you slipped. Not that I've been a saint myself."_

If it was anyone else, she would have destroyed their very soul for that. But it was Him. Everything was to save Him from the fate she was destined for.

"_Why? Why 'Mione? Why am I worth such things?"_

Because the world ended. Before the MAGI project even began. Because she failed, and it was her fault. She just never told Him. Laying what was left of His mutilated body into the middle of the floor, she pulled her wand out. Looking to the ceiling, even blind, she could see the magic. A prism of solid starlight hung there. Certainly enough to vaporize the continent. Or, just enough to power the true goal of the MAGI project.

"_What does it do 'Mione?"_

It would power the magic she was working on, and if he'd stop pestering her, she could explain once she finishes. She gave His dead body a dirty look. Even now, He still breaks rules. He shouldn't be able to talk to her! Admittedly, if she wasn't bleeding all over the floor, and minutes from invoking the darkest magics she could create, she would have found it quite a turn on, the way he effortlessly violates reality itself. Back to the matter at hand!

Pouring what little strength she had left through her wand, she created a magical connection between herself and the piece of solid starlight. Magic itself given a physical form. The entire room began to glow, as runes lit up. Wherever they were covered with blood, the blood would boil away. Had He or She been able to physically see, they would have found the beautiful blue glow relaxing.

Runes. Thousands of runes, written in liquid starlight that was doped with her own blood. Ok, and His blood too. No comment from the peanut gallery?

"_I trust you 'Mione, and you asked me to be quiet."_

Of course He trusted her. He always did, no matter how little she deserved it. He always trusted, and always forgave her. She'd cry if she had enough of a soul left.

"_WHAT!?"_

__What little soul she was able to preserve, was His. With a slash of her wand, she released the seal holding His soul into the dead body. That allowed the room to go work. He would never forgive her for this, but He would be alive to not forgive her, and that was all that mattered.

"_Don't! You can't do that 'Mione!"_

Resting the tip of her wand to her chest, she hesitated a moment. Then another moment. And another. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Even with a soul as corrupted and destroyed as hers, He still loved her. And that was why she was going to do what she had to do.

"Promise me Harry. That you'll take care of her."

"_What are you talking about? 'Mione!?"_

"Me. She needs your help, and unlike me, she's worthy of your help. This is the true purpose of the MAGI project Harry. To break the barrier between worlds, and allow you to escape. There are things far worse than death Harry, and I can't escape such a fate. I can't escape with you."

"I've always loved you Harry, since you jumped on a troll for me. Take what little of my soul that isn't tainted Harry. It, no, I will help you, and always be with you" Resting her wand on her chest, she slowly drew it away, pulling her soul from her body. Instead of the white light that all souls had, a blackened ball of darkness was pulled from her chest. Not even Riddle's soul, after all he did, looked like that.

"_NO! 'MIONE!"_

He knew it was useless. The moment the soul left her body, she was already dead. Which made the what was happening an even bigger shock than Hermione pulling her soul from her body.

"It's alright Harry. It's alright." Holding the soul in front of her, she pushed it off, to where it floated over Harry's body. Slowly, a bright blue light began to seep from the soul, collecting into a much smaller ball under it. Harry's soul slowly rose to meet it, accepting it into itself, wrapping around it, to protect it. Already, Harry's soul truly accepted her own, and they began to intermix. She smiled at the scene, knowing Harry would never realize that he's violating more rules of magic and reality. He never seemed to realize it. Decades with the Elder Wand, and violating the rules of magic just came naturally to him.

"You always trusted me fully Harry. Thank you, for letting what little of my soul remained in. In a few minutes, the tainted portion of my soul will be used to power this. I can't tell you very much about where you're going. I can only tell you what I know. You will have your family Harry. As I've failed to give you a family of our own," she wrapped her arms across her stomach "I can give you your own family back. They will need your protection."

Even dead, she still managed to cry. "Find my counter part Harry. She needs you. Promise me you'll look for her, you'll protect her, you'll love her."

"_On my life, my magic, and my own soul, I swear it 'Mione! I will always love you, protect you, and cherish you, in this world or any other!"_

Her corpse smiled, tears falling from her face. "She's had a shitty life Harry, worse than your life. I...just don't let her become what I am. I'm sorry I've lied to you Harry, I just wanted you to live your life, without the world on your shoulders. I'm sorry Harry, but the world you're going to need you."

"_What do you mean it needs me?"_

"I found a way to save you Harry, but the only world I could create a stable connection to in time, is a world you'll have to save. I don't know from who, or from what. Unlike this world however, it can be saved. In the end, my Saving People thing might be as big as yours. I love you Harry. In this world and all others."

The compulsions that imprinted Hermione's personality onto her dead body finally ran out, and her corpse crumpled to the ground. All that was left was for the magic Hermione set in motion to do it's job.

Uncaring of what was expected, required, or even theoretically possible, Harry's soul lazily moved towards Hermione's body, and settled over it, as if to caress her. She was after all, far more important to him than he himself could ever be. A world without Hermione wasn't a world worth living in. The least he could do was caress her one last time.

He never noticed that they were no longer alone in the room.

_Harry Potter, August 1st, 1991_

"I have a message for James. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry saw it, and didn't hesitate for even a moment. He knew he wasn't always the best son. Or the best brother. He knew he was arrogant and full of himself. In fact, truth be told, he was a right asshole headed to a bad end. It had been on his mind the entire day. His life until this point, shamed him. For all his numerous faults, when put to the ultimate test, his body moved as if on autopilot, his mind already knew the consequences, and lodged no objection.

No thought, no hesitation. Harry Potter dropped the cauldron he was carrying and tackled his ten year old sister, whom the killing curse was aimed for. Perhaps if his mom wasn't carrying several bags, or if his dad wasn't working today, they could have conjured something to block the killing curse. Maybe if uncle Moony or Padfoot were here, he wouldn't have to die. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. As his body impacted his sister's, he could see his mom just getting her wand out. In the end, Harry Potter regretted his life, but not his sacrifice. His life for his sister's. It was a fair trade. As the green light hit him, Harry Potter was no more.

xxxxx

Iris, ten year old child of James and Lily Potter, screamed, until her scream was cut off by a heavy impact, knocking the air out of her. Even at ten, she could feel the foul magic of the killing curse meant for her as it slammed into her older brother. For Iris, it seemed as if time came to a stop. She could hear the people in Diagon Alley screaming. She could feel the hatred and venom in her mother's voice as she started casting. Most of all, she could feel her brother die. The sick feeling of the magic coursing through his body, she could even feel as his soul detached from his body.

Together, Iris and her dead brother crumpled to the ground while her mother began to fight. Already, she could hear the pops as people started apparating away until the anti-apparation ward slammed down, and the screams as those who couldn't apparate began to run. Iris laid there a few moments, trying to catch her breath after the impact, before it finally sunk in. Her brother took a killing curse for her.

"Harry?" She began shaking him. "Harry! NO! HARRY!" She continued shaking Harry while crying out for him until a witch viciously kicked Harry off of her.

"Well, what do we have here?" Reaching down, the witch roughly dragged Ivy to her feet by her hair, holding her between Lily and herself, before firing off a bone breaking hex into Lily's leg. With a scream, Lily crumpled to the ground, small chunks of bone puncturing her leg from where it shattered.

"Not a moment too soon my flower. She's as good as they say." The wizard was favoring his side heavily, his dark robe darkening from where Lily managed to slip through his defenses. He was bleeding, but nothing too bad.

"Lily Potter, your husband has been a very bad boy. I'm afraid we've been paid to kill you and one of your children, to let him think about what he's done. Really, it's nothing personal."

The venomous look Lily gave the wizard said everything for her. To her, it was personal. Very personal. "James will hunt you down."

"Hahahaha. That's just it Lily, he will hunt us down. He will follow us, right into a trap. He's made several powerful and wealthy enemies. Nothing but the best for your husband. Isn't that right my Flower?"

The witch smiled at her wizard, while yanking Iris side to side by her hair. "That's right! Nothing but the best! Now Lily, if you just die, your daughter will be free to go. Just toss your wand away, or you'll see what a reducto will do to her pretty head." Yanking Iris's hair down elicited another scream from the girl, until a wand was jabbed into the bottom of her mouth hard enough to close it.

Lily just squeezed her wand for a moment, knowing that help wouldn't arrive. Not in time. With a sob, she discarded her wand, before breaking down crying. She, like the witch and wizard that just ambushed her and the children, never noticed Harry wasn't as dead as they thought.

"Ahh, music to my ears Potter. I am, however, a professional. A promise is a promise, your daughter will be released unharmed. You'll see your son again soon enough, and we'll send your husband to join you shortly. AVADA KEDAVRA!" As the green bolt left his wand, he lost his smug look as a cauldron came into view, before it shattered under the force of his killing curse.

xxxxx

As Harry came to, he noticed a few things. Where ever he was, it was outside. His chest was hurting a great deal, and maybe even a few of his ribs were broken. Nothing he hasn't dealt with before. Voices. He could hear voices, but he couldn't place them. Not until he heard one of them say 'James'. It almost sounded like his mom. He heard her voice in enough nightmares, he'd recognize it anywhere.

Looking around, Harry took stock of the situation as well as he could without being noticed. A witch was holding up a little girl, with a wand tucked under her chin. Harry could already see the blood making it's way down the little girls head. Another wizard had a witch at wand point. The witch on the ground looked like...no...she didn't look like her. It WAS her. _All you ever wanted._ Family. He was given a chance to have a family. And already, someone was trying to take it from him. Another glance at the little girl, and he guessed she was a sister. A sister!

Within reach, was an overturned cauldron with a few different knives laying next to it, along with several other tools for potions. Just a standard potions kit. Probably for Hogwarts. It wasn't much, but it would be enough. Listening to the conversation, he already pieced together the fact that this world's Harry just ate a killing a curse. _Really. Who hits the-boy-who-lived with a killing curse and actually expects it to stick? Then again, if mom is alive, I might not be the-boy-who-lived. And why the hell haven't any Auror's shown up yet? _

The second problem, Harry could do something about. Maybe. Opening his senses to magic, Harry found the answer. The man put up anti-apparation wards. Very scary anti-apparation wards. There's a trick to putting up _effective_ and _powerful_ wards without an anchor. Most Auror's can easily throw up run of the mill wards in moments if they don't need to be overly powerful. Stopping a person from apparating and such. The upside is, it's free. The known downside is, few people can truly make them powerful enough to stop, say, Dumbledore, or even just a small group of run of the mill wizards. The _unknown_ downside, at least at this point in time, is that a sufficiently skilled wizard who knows how can take control of such wards. Silently slipping into the ward, Harry prepped himself to seize control at a moments notice. Once he was ready, Harry waited for his moment.

"AVA-"

That was all he needed. Springing to his feet, Harry snagged the cauldron and threw it. A knife quickly followed in the other direction.

"-VRA!"

Before the bolt even hit, Harry seized the ward, made a mental note to thank Hermione for being a bloody genius, and inverted the keying, making the ward slam down on his new opponents, while opening it up for anyone else to freely apparate in or out. As the shattered chunks of metal hit the ground, Auror's were already apparating in as the knife he threw took the witch in her wand hand, causing her to let go of her hostage and drop her wand.

"WHAT!?" In fear, the wizard fired off a curse Harry couldn't recognize at Lily. He didn't have the magical strength to conjure or transfigure something to block the strike. He was running on empty, presumably a side effect of taking a killing curse. He took the only course available to him. Harry stepped in front of the curse, throwing his hand forward, using what little magic he had to coat it with the most powerful shield he could. For an eleven year old boy with no wand, it was impressive. For all that, it may as well have been a sheet of paper. The dark curse blew right through his shield, blowing Harry off his feet.

"Harry! NO!" The last thing Harry noticed was both his sister and the witch trying to get a hold on her going down in a hail of stunners, and the wizard was caught flatfooted. The curses that took him down were most certainly not stunners. Collapsing to the ground several feet from where he stood, he began to vomit blood. A detached part of his mind noted that it felt a great deal like the cruciatus curse, but only worse. It wasn't long before the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness claimed him.

xxxxx

"Bloody hell Prongs, am I reading this report right?" Sirius looked up from the report at James. "I guess that explains the bottle of Fire Whiskey. This...this...how could someone do this? Who could do this?"

"It had to have been a death eater. But how did they find her? No one could find her! Bloody Albus Dumbledore hid her away! Most the Wizarding World has tried tracking her down, with no success."

"Yea, to keep her safe. We can see how well THAT worked! Who knows how long those muggle aggression and lust wards were up for! According to this, they've been there YEARS! The wizarding world trusted that man to protect her, and he never checked up on her! He just left her in an orphanage!"

"And then someone covers the orphanage in wards to make her life a living hell. What you see in that report isn't the full story, it's only what we've managed to drag out of her so far, and it's all been verified with her medical exam. Padfoot, I'm reassigning you and Moony to her, full time. Until she gets onto the Hogwarts express, one of you will be with her at ALL times. I'm...I'm authorizing the use of full force to protect her. Madame Bones has signed off on it. If something doesn't look right, curse first, curse second, and curse a few more times before you drop your guard enough to ask questions."

"So she's in your office now?"

"No. Jameson took a dose of polyjuice, and she's providing a body double. The VIP is currently with Director Bones and Moony. If I thought for a moment I could pull Moody out of retirement, I'd have him here too."

"You should try anyways. Moody might actually come out of retirement for this. Where are we going to keep her?"

"The ministry has provided a safe house. Sirius, I don't trust the ministry. I can't prove it, but I have my suspicions on what happened. I need a massive favor, and this is why I'm calling you in."

"You know I'd do anything for you Prongs."

"I need you to claim the Grimmauld house. There is truly nowhere safer unless we stash her in Gringotts. Even then, it would be a toss up as to which would be safer."

"Don't...you can't ask that of me..."

"It's not for me. It's for her. She needs your help Padfoot. She needs to be under the wards there."

"I...I can't. I can't go back there."

"You won't be alone. Me, you, Moony, Lily, the kids. Please Padfoot? She needs your help. This entire situation is just rotten."

"No..I just can't James. I ca-" Sirus was cut off as an alarm sounded and the Ministry went into lock down.

"What!? Go! Get to the directors office Padfoot! Me and Jameson will meet you there in a minute!"

Sirius didn't waste any time scrambling to his feet and was almost out of the room when he heard yelling and spellfire coming from James' office. James himself didn't waste any time, and kicked his own office door in. Ducking to the side, a killing curse sailed through the door, narrowly missing him.

"Kill the girl! I'll handle him!" Unfortunately, the hit team was fighting a disguised Auror Jameson, the best duelist on the force. The man barely finished his sentence before a reducto from her removed most of his head. Free to move, James fired off several curses at the two concentrating on her. Between James and Jameson, it was over in less than ten seconds.

"James? You OK?" Sirius stood in the door, ready to help.

"Area's clear! Me and Jameson are alright, better than these three at least. Jameson, you're with me. Sirius, they just penetrated the wards at the Ministry and dropped a hit team into MY office. I need you with me on this one."

Sirius deflated. The prospect of going back home after all these years still frightened him. The three dead bodies in the Head Auror's office frightened him more though. "You're right James...I have no choice. Get the girl, and meet me at Grimmauld in an hour. It'll take at least that long to make it safe enough for her to get in the front door."

All three Auror's drew wands as they heard someone running up. "JAMES! JAMES! IT'S LILY!" Peter Pettigrew ran into the front room before skidding to a halt. He didn't even register the wands. "James! Lily and the kids! They're under attack in Diagon! We can't break through the anti-apparation ward! They said one of the kids went down! WE NEED TO GO NOW!"

"Jameson! Protect the girl! Padfoot, Wormtail, lets go! We're apparating as close as we can and moving in on foot!" James tried to not show it, but fear gripped his heart. He wasn't naive enough to believe it was unrelated. Someone was striking at his family, all because he managed to rescue the-witch-who-lived. He knew, deep in his heart, that the next wizarding war had begun, and his family was lined up to be the first casualties.

Thankfully, as the head Auror, he and his team could apparate out of the lock down After all, Auror's are expected to respond to threats. With a quick nod, all three apparated to Diagon Alley, as close to the anti-apparation ward as they could get. A quick guess put the wards origin at roughly 200 meters from their position, but unfortunately, it wasn't a straight shot through. "Lets go!"

The cat, so to speak, had long been out of the bag. Neither of the three hesitated for even a moment. Sirius dived and all four of his padded feet hit the ground in a dead run. Peter jumped onto James' back, landing as a rat onto the back of a large stag. The three of them tore through the alley at a dead run, pushing past the few people who haven't fled to the boundaries yet.

The trio finally made it within sight of the battle in time to feel the wards change. All three, Hero's of the Voldemort war, moved without hesitation. They weren't even finished returning to human before apparating. As soon as the three arrived, stunners were already fired off into the woman grabbing for Iris.

"HARRY! NO!" James panicked at seeing Harry caught by a dark curse. He wanted nothing more than to apparate and take the hit for him, or conjure something to protect him, but he didn't have any time. Watching his son get blown off his feet after moving to take the curse for Lily, James threw every curse he could think of at the wizard, cutting him down where he stood.

Iris was the first to make it to Harry, sobbing while she cradled his head. Whatever she was saying, no one could make out between her sobs. She could feel it. His pulse, his life, his magic, his soul. It felt reassuring, and comforting. He was alive. He saved her, and saved their mum. And he was_ alive_.

"Peter! Get as many Auror's as you can round up in five minutes, and have them meet me in St Mungo's!" With a nod, Peter grabbed the stunned woman and apparated away. "Sirius! Set it up, our lives are in your hands. Send a Patronus when it's clear!" To his credit, Sirius only hesitated for a moment before nodding and disapparating.

Already, a couple more Auror's showed up. "Miller, Watts, grab the kids and take them to St Mungo's!" James himself grabbed his wife, who was still crying hysterically, and apparated himself. It all started with a tip to a muggle officer last week from the school of The-Witch-Who-Lived, and it already nearly claimed the lives of his entire family.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: To avoid confusion, I'm outright stating that parts of the story take place in the original post-DH time line. It should be utterly obvious which parts are in which time line.**

**CHAPTER 2**

_August 21st, 1998_

Today was his day. His big day. The day he finally had a real family to call his own. Just minutes ago, Ginny officially became Mrs Potter. Not only that, his two best friends also held their wedding, Hermione becoming Mrs Weasley. For all that, Harry still had too much trouble keeping a smile on his face, despite this being the happiest day of his life. He didn't want to admit it to anyone, but he'd barely slept since the battle, and what sleep he did get almost always filled with nightmares. Harry did the only thing he knew how to do, put on a brave face and pretended he was alright.

He had to admit, it was a beautiful double wedding, and the reception was looking to be just as beautiful, even if he was starting to have a few second thoughts. At first, he was all for swearing his vows on his life and magic. Smiling as he watched Ginny, now Mrs Potter, play with his godson Teddy, Harry knew he would never regret his sworn vows to Ginny. Glancing over to Ron, his smile faltered a little. Harry was looking at one of the two reasons he was having second thoughts of swearing his vows on his life and magic. Ron and Hermione ended up caving to the pressure and also swore their vows on their lives and magic.

Harry knew he rushed into his marriage. A family was too good of an opportunity to pass up, and he had no regrets. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione rushed into their marriage too. Harry had no qualms with his marriage. Ginny was simply too wonderful. Ron and Hermione? They were, at best, a train wreck. An improperly performed charm by Ron meant Hermione was pregnant, and she pretty much forced Ron into this marriage. Not that Ron seemed to care, he'd wanted Hermione for a few years now. Hermione was somewhat less pleased with the necessity of it, though she tried admirably to not show it.. She wanted to return to Hogwarts next year and finish her education. Harry personally doubted that Ron even knew she was unhappy about having to get married.

Ron was his best mate. Of that, there was no doubt. The problem was, he was a bit thick at times. Even by Harry's standards. But Hermione? She was his world. His feelings weren't romantic. No, she was the closest he had to a family, closer even than the Weasleys. In Harry's wildest dreams, he spends the rest of his life waking up next to Ginny every morning, clearing Hermione and all her books of his kitchen table, and making breakfast for his beautiful wife, his Legion beautiful children, his Hermione, and her Legion of children. The only problem was, the father of all her children was always missing from his fantasy. He never met anyone he truly 'approved' of for her, which had just proven to be quite irrelevant.

Shaking his doubts from his head, Harry walked over and joined his best friend, who was looking a little down. "Hey Ron, knut for your thoughts?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not really, but I know you pretty well by now."

"It's just...I don't think Hermione's parents like me very much."

Harry had to hold back the urge to chuckle. From what little Harry saw so far, that was most certainly an understatement. Ron wasn't the fastest broom on the pitch, so that was strike one. Her parents seemed to value intelligence, unsurprisingly. From what Hermione told him after they returned from Australia with her parents in tow, she got into a major argument with her parents, and they haven't quite forgiven either of them, or Harry for that matter. That was strike two, though he suspected they'd get over it eventually. Now forcing Hermione's father to walk his not yet noticeably pregnant daughter down the isle? Strike three. Having seen the interaction between Hermione and Ron? Strike four! Err, can you even get four strikes? Silly muggle sports references. Maybe one of those was supposed to be a foul?

"Don't worry about it too much mate. I'm sure they'll come around when they see how happy you make their daughter." Harry, much to his surprise, couldn't be sure just why he hated himself for that statement. Was it because he was worried Ron wouldn't make her happy? Was it because he was certain he just fed Ron a line of bullshit? From what Hermione had told him, she wasn't expecting her parents to ever come around to actually like Ron, and that was starting to worry her.

"I'm sure you're right Harry, but I can't help but be worried. You're lucky, all your in-laws love you."

"Well, I was practically adopted at eleven by my in-laws. It helps." The two boys shared a laugh at that.

"Oh, and whats so funny you two?" Looking over, Harry smiled as Hermione walked up. Reaching out, he hugged the newest Weasley before poking her belly. "Hey Hermione! So you two settle on a name for my next godson? Or is this one going to be a goddaughter?"

Laughing, Hermione swatted Harry's arm away. "No Harry, we haven't settled on a name yet. We were thinking Hugo for a boy, or Rose for a girl though. More importantly, when are we going to start seeing little potters running around?"

Ron started sputtering at that. "Wha...but...that, that's my sister you're talking about!" Neither Harry nor Hermione could really contain their laughter at Ron's expense.

Harry gave a quick glance at his beautiful wife, before turning back to his two friends and gave a wink. "Soon. It's something me and Ginny want to get started on. Tonight." He waggled his eyebrows for added effect.

Hermione hit Harry in the arm as Ron seemed to start having a mental breakdown. "Harry James Potter! That was just mean! You know Poor Ron can't handle that sort of thing!" _Then why did you marry him?_ Harry almost said.

"He's going to see nieces and nephews eventually, he's going to have to get used to the idea at some point."

"Speaking of godsons, I think I'm going to join your wife in playing with Teddy." With another hug for Harry, and a kiss for Ron, Hermione was off.

Turning towards Ron, Harry nodded his head over towards Bill and his beautiful Veela wife. "Hey Ron, your brother seems to want to talk to you, go tell them I said hi."

"What about you mate? How you holding up? You never did recover from Hogwarts, don't push yourself mate."

"Don't worry, I won't. I'm just going to take a seat for a moment before I start running the gauntlet of all the guests."

"Don't do that if you're just going to sit and brood Harry. You have to move on. I just married the most beautiful witch in Hogwarts, and you just married my baby sister. It's a happy, joyous day. Enjoy it."

"Don't worry Ron, I'm fine. And I think Bill is getting impatient."

"Alright, alright. See you in a few."

Harry took a seat for himself, wanting to take a few minutes to just relax, and maybe recover a bit of strength. A quick look around was enough to bring back his depression. Too high, the cost of victory was just too high. The wedding photographer? It should have been Colin. The non-political portion of the guest list? Should have been doubled, if not tripled. They already called his generation the Lost Generation. Nearly half of his year, the year above, and the year below, were killed during the second war, or were in St Mungo's, several of which are expected to never be released unless their families take over their care at home.

The wedding? Put together by donations, the Goblins took _everything_ for the stunt he pulled in Gringotts. Harry never cared about his gold before, but that was more a product of gold being like air. When you have some, it's not important, but when you don't, you realize just how much you need it. If the government and the ICW didn't pay Harry a bounty for killing Voldemort, he wouldn't have a knut to his name. The only thing he had left was Number Twelve Grimmauld. The ministry was extremely reluctant to help the goblins seize anything, and the wards around the Black Manor weren't very friendly when it was under full lock down. Voldemort or Dumbledore could have broken in, and that was about it. Even then, he couldn't _stay_ there, because the goblins would kill if they managed to actually breach the wards, something they've been working since the day Voldemort died. Only the threat of open war with magical Europe kept the goblins from actively seeking his head.

If the depression he constantly fought with wasn't enough, his body was nowhere near recovered, even months after the Battle of Hogwarts, he was constantly weak and tired; physically, mentally, emotionally, and magically. Ginny finally dragged him to St Mungo's shortly after Hermione and Ron took off to Australia. No one was sure what exactly was wrong with him, but it was generally blamed on the second killing curse he took. It was almost enough to make him think that his awful condition as a child may have had as much to do with the killing curse as it did his treatment from the Dursleys. Even if you survive it, being hit by death magic just can't be healthy for the body.

"Penny for your thoughts son?"

Looking up, Harry shot to his feet fast enough that he stumbled. In front of him were the two people he most wanted to like him. Well, at least, the two people who don't already like him that he most wanted to like him. Ginny already loved him, and so did Hermione, Ron, and the Weasley's in general, so they didn't really count. Hermione's parents looked down at him, smiling softly.

"Oh, Sorry sir. I'm just tired." Mr and Mrs Granger both took a seat, one on each side of Harry, Mr Granger pulling Harry back into his seat by his shoulder.

"Harry, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Tempers were running kind of high, we were still quite upset about what happened, and to be honest, our daughter dragging us back to England for her wedding to a boy we never met definitely put us off. We'd like to get to know you Harry, the most important _man_ in my daughters life." The way Mr Granger stressed the word man let Harry know that their opinion on Ron certainly wasn't changing anytime soon.

On the inside, Harry was flipping for joy, even if it felt like a betrayal of Ron. Harry got another chance, to win the approval of Hermione's parents. "What would you like to know sir?"

"For starters" started Mrs Granger, "why don't you tell us about you and our daughter? We saw the way you two interact. You both seem to just...click."

"Hermione is the most important person in my life whose name isn't 'Potter'. She's been my best friend since first year. We just always got along pretty well, probably because neither of us had any friends growing up." Harry felt slightly guilty, for leaving out 99% of their relationship. Hermione's parents probably don't have to hear about her unhealthy obsession with helping Harry ever since he saved her from a troll, and they most definitely don't need to hear about the Basilisk he killed for hurting her, or the hundred odd dementors he attacked to save her, or the Death Eaters. Or the fact that she wanted to go with him, to die. Harry had to fight the urge to frown. Their relationship was most certainly not the healthiest relationship for people to have.

"You two certainly seem to interact better than she and her new husband do most of the time." _So do starving wolves and rabbits. _Harry just smiled, because his only other option really was to cry. If _his_ relationship with Hermione was unhealthy, he didn't know the words to describe her relationship with Ron. At least he and Hermione held a mutual respect for each other.

"Those two didn't get along very well to begin with. It was a few years before they could really be in the same room without sparking an argument." _Now it takes them as long as ten minutes in a room together to start yelling..._

Mr Granger shook his head, lamenting for the umpteenth time just how poor his daughters choice of husband was. From about a minutes worth of interaction, he could already tell that the _man_ she didn't bother with would have been much better than the _boy_ she just married. He was about to say something when he glanced down and saw the way Harry was carrying himself. Slouched over, withdrawn, tired, depressed. The words died in his throat, no longer knowing how to talk to the young man. He was a Dentist, not a psychiatrist.

"This is your wedding day. Why do you look so depressed?" Mrs Granger asked him, noticing as he was slipping out of the happy mood he showed just moments ago.

Harry flinched almost as if he was hit. "It's not that I'm unhappy Mrs Granger. I love my wife dearly, and even got to attend the wedding of my two best friends. It's just, well, why Hermione did what she did to you."

Both the Granger's looked at Harry. Neither were very clear on just how bad the war itself was, or why their daughter felt she had no choice but to make her parents disappear into Australia with false memories.

"Look around sir, look at how many people are here. You see your new in-laws, you see our friends. I see that over half the people I know, I attended their funeral and memorial, before they attended my wedding. I see Colin's little brother Dennis, but only the cold dead eyes of Colin looking at me after the battle. I see George, but not his twin Fred. I see an empty seat where my Godfather should be. I see Cedric's dead body as I'm dragging him away with all my strength. I see my Godson's parents laying side by side in death. I've seen more of my friends murdered than attending my wedding. I just need more time to deal with it..."

Both the Granger's had the decency to look ashamed at the question, not expecting such an answer. Harry looked up again as Mr Granger patted his shoulder. "No son, you need more than time. You should see a doctor as well." Silently, both parents planned on dragging Hermione off to see one as well, a sentiment that Harry would certainly agree with.

"A doctor? The healers at St. Mungo's already said I'll be fine."

Mr Granger shook his head. "No, not a healer, a psychiatrist. You aren't fine, and listening to you, I'm starting to think we may have judged Ron a little harshly. Don't they have psychiatrists in your world?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't actually know much about either world. I've spent my entire life just trying to survive."

"Mum? Dad? Are you harassing Harry?" Hermione and Ginny joined the small group, with Ginny holding onto little Teddy.

"I wouldn't so much say Harassing as just trying to get to know your friends a little better. It's not like we've had much of a chance to meet the important people in your life, being as you've been at a boarding school."

Giving a quick concerned glance to Harry, Hermione started chewing her lip, unsure. She didn't think he was looking too good, even by the poor health he held since the battle. She didn't want to tell her parents to leave Harry alone, she knew he was desperate to make a better impression after all, but her desire to protect Harry was warring with her desire to let Harry and her parents talk. Ginny on the other hand, had no such compunction, much to her relief.

"Can you give me a few moments alone with my husband?" Passing Teddy to Hermione, Ginny slid into the seat that Mr Granger just left, wrapping an arm around the love of her life. Holding him close, she started whispering to him, too quietly for the Granger's to hear, but they could all see him shake a little.

Dragging her parents a little ways off, Hermione rounded on them in a fierce, but quiet, whisper. "I know you two didn't mean it, but please, don't bother Harry too much. He hasn't fully recovered yet. Even worse, he's desperate to make a good impression with you two and too stubborn to care about his health. Give him a little time, please?"

Mrs Granger leaned over to whisper to her daughter. "Hermione, he's not well. He needs help."

Hermione nodded. "I know. But I don't know how to get him to find help. All I can do is support him as his friend, and all the Weasleys are more than happy to support him. Even they don't really know what to do though, it took Ginny nearly a month to bully him into even seeing a healer. For a while, we thought he was dying. I..I was afraid. We were all afraid that we would be having his funeral this summer, not his wedding."

"What about you and your new husband?"

"We're...fine. The war wasn't nearly as personal for us as it was for Harry. We've picked up the pieces, and we're moving on."

Neither Granger missed their daughter's hesitant answer. "Honey, I think you should see someone about. You and Ron. I don't think you're as fine as you claim."

"Mum! Please, let it go for now? This is a wedding, lets talk about it later. I just want to enjoy my big day. Can we just talk about something happier?"

"Actually, there is something on a happier note we wanted to talk to you about..." At that, both the Granger's were positively beaming as they smiled at their daughter.

"Honey, you aren't the only one expecting. I personally blame being cooped up in the middle of nowhere, Australia..."

Hermione gaped at her mother, before wrapping her in a fierce one armed hug as Harry walked up behind them and put an arm around both Granger's.

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs Granger. I look forward to spoiling Hermione's new sibling rotten. Oh so very rotten. Though you might want to let Ron know he's going to have a new in-law. Maybe if you hold off a month or so, I can tell him I got his sister pregnant at the same time."

Hermione shot a look at him. "Prat." She could only hold her stern glare for a few moments before her face softened. Taking in Harry, she could tell he was far too pale, and still had redness around his eyes.

Harry just chuckled, a bit too weakly for everyone's comfort. "Well, I think I've wasted enough of my wedding day feeling sorry for myself, how about we get this party started? Shack was kind enough to bring a case of Fire-"

Before anyone else realized what was happening, Harry already turned and brought his wand to bear. There was an Eagle Patronus next to Penelope, Percy's wife. "Warn Harry, they're coming for him!" Penelope just looked at it in fear before turning to Harry.

Before she could say anything, Harry caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Harry snapped his wand to the side, not even bothering with an incantation. Before anyone else had a wand out, Harry was already firing his second stunner.

xxxxx

"Alright gentlemen, I'm sure you're wondering who our target is today. Normally I don't like playing my cards this close to my chest, but I wanted to make damn sure of a few things before committing us to this. This target is somewhat more high-profile than our usual targets."

"Sir, I've killed a president, how much more high profile can you get than that?"

"You killed a president in a country that has more coup's a year than Europe has a century, I'm not sure that counts for much." The room erupted in laughter at that. "I assure you men, this target is much more high profile. I had, shall we say, extreme reservations of taking this job. Now let us not ignore the elephant in the room. I'm well aware many of you have reservations about working in a first world country. Reservations which I shared."

With a nod, one of the men hit the lights, and the leader turned on the projector. The first slide was the front page of the Daily Prophet, the day after the battle at Hogwarts. "England isn't doing so well. Their normally effective police force, Auror's as they're generally called in Europe, have been nearly all but removed. What estimates you may have heard have been bullshit. Their Auror corps suffered ninety percent losses, and the accelerated training schedules their current recruits are going through means that what security forces they do have are almost universally of low quality."

"Sir, how can the country function if ninety percent of it's security forces are gone?"

"Simple, the only threat to stability beyond the occasional petty crime, was you-know-who. I'm sure others are plotting and scheming, but these people are political. They may employ the occasional assassination, but outright conflict, they avoid like the plague. Not only that, but..." The next slide popped up, a picture of Harry Potter, taken from the same edition of the Daily Prophet. "...this man killed you-know-who in direct battle. I'm sure you can figure out how that keeps people from openly challenging the government. They could disband the Auror corps and no one would dare challenge the Ministry." To a man, everyone in the room shuddered.

Voldemort may have been a mostly English problem, but he left his mark on the world. In fact, in an odd twist of fate, Voldemort had inadvertently blessed the magical world with a few very peaceful decades. A very great many dark wizards (And quite a few law enforcement agents as well) fell to his wand before his return to England to start the first War. Even the less savory elements of the world couldn't agree on a body count, but all estimates put it at over five hundred. This one wizard single handedly crushed all potential opposition, as mere practice to face Dumbledore in England. The criminal element of the magical world was terrified of Voldemort, and by extension, even more terrified of the man that killed Voldemort in single combat.

"Wait a god damn minute sir! I understand this isn't the safest occupation, but I didn't sign up to commit suicide!" The gathered men look at the one responsible for the outburst, before connecting the dots in their head.

"What the hell sir! Potter!?"

"We can't kill him!"

"QUIET!" The next slide popped up, showing Harry's latest medical report. "That is why this job almost never happened, but I was given certain information, and have managed to independently verify it through multiple, distinct sources. We aren't being played gentlemen, he's weak and vulnerable, for the time being."

Pointing his wand at the screen, using a slightly modified lumos spell to make it act as a laser pointer, he began to highlight some of the more important aspects.

"Apparently, he ate a second killing curse during the battle, a fact that was hidden from the news papers. As worrying as that simple fact is, it's also believed to be responsible for his current condition. Physically, he's continuously exhausted. Inability to sleep more than a couple hours a night the past few months has also taken it's toll. Mentally and emotionally, he's suffering from a pretty severe case of PTSD, even if the idiot's in England haven't figured it out yet, I'm sure you can all recognize the symptoms. I doubt a competent doctor would have let him back out the hospital, let alone give him his wand back."

"Typical pure-blood bullshit. It's pathetic that you can get better mental health care in most African countries than you can in most of Magical Europe."

"As distasteful as that fact is, it's working to our advantage. His mental problems are, if anything making his physical problems worse. Lastly, and most importantly, his magical problems. Whether it's due to his constant state of exhaustion or something else, he's significantly weaker than any adult should be. Estimates put his magical ability on par with a thirteen year old child at the moment. Gentlemen, there will never be a better time to kill Harry Potter."

"Who would want Harry Potter killed though? Fuck, my sister has such a crush on the guy, she is going to hate me. Can we just kill his fiance so I can introduce him to my sister?" That got a decent round of laughter from the gathered troops.

"Someone with enough gold to make sure your question goes unanswered, and enough information to make this feasible. Oh, and more than enough gold to make sure we all retire. I'm sure when you take a look at the kit assembled for this hit, your question will be answered, in general terms at least."

"Sir, I'm not comfortable with this at all. This is Harry Fucking Potter. We might be able to escape England due to their poor security situation, but the ICW will hit us like the fist of fucking Merlin. Not to mention his friends. I read the reports of the battle, and most the heavy fighting wasn't done by their security forces since they were all but wiped out by then, but people loyal and unattached enough to hunt us down, and potentially powerful enough to be people I do NOT want hunting us down. Death Eaters, and those that stood against them, were on a different level from the trash we've fought before. It's like the difference between some warlords militia and a NATO military."

"A valid concern, but perhaps you should take a look at your kit first?" Moving to the next slide, a picture of a death eater was brought up. "We have been provided with Fifteen sets of authentic death eater outfits, and the spell to leave a Dark Mark. Make no mistake, it's completely authentic. You can even pick up you-know-who's magic on it still. This will be traced back to the Death Eaters that escaped that final battle."

"Sir, there's still a great number of ways we can be identified. In something this high profile, they'll bring in everything from muggle forensics to a dowsing rod!"

"The reason Death Eaters were so scary, well, other than being trained by Him, were their custom made robes and mask. To date, no one has managed to penetrate the protections and identify a single death eater through magical means nor muggle forensics. If the Brits never managed to actually capture a Death Eater, they would have never identified a single one. As it is, I'm led to believe that a few cells managed to completely escape identification."

Finally mollified, the man raising his objections quieted down so they could get on with the briefing.

Another picture came up. "And gentlemen, this is our secondary target. We aren't expected to actually get the man, but there is a hefty bonus. Acting Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was the senior surviving Auror."

"How are we expecting to tag both Potter and the acting Minister?"

"Simple. Today, Harry Potter is getting married. In a few hours, the ceremony will end, and they will move to a reception at the 'Burrow'." Another picture, this time showing the Burrow. No one noticed one of their number in the back cringe.

"The 'Burrow'?"

"Don't ask me, I'm not English. I couldn't tell you why they name their homes weird ass shit. In the US, we called our homes 'home', or maybe 'John's house'. It's the house his widow-to-be grew up in."

"This goes back to my earlier point sir, the authentic death eater gear means we can probably get away unidentified, but Potter had quite a few friends that fought with him at Hogwarts. Is that wise?"

"It's not as suicidal as it sounds. The battle reports glossed over a few important facts, which I've managed to uncover." The next slide came up, a simple pie chart. Almost 90% of which was blue, to a small portion of red.

"Nearly 90% of the fatalities of the battle were the defenders. Potter is confirmed at one kill, You-Know-Who. Death Eater casualties neared a hundred, but fatalities? Nearly half of their fatalities were fratricide from Fiend Fyre and a few other heavy artillery curses. Very few of the defenders fought to kill, an attitude unlikely to have changed. Add in the element of surprise, and the assault plan has a high chance of success with a very low level of risk. Lets not forget that most of the people with 'fight' in them died at Hogwarts."

Pulling an amulet out of his pocket, the leader tossed it to one of his men. "These are also part of our kit for this. A ready made portkey. They're set to fire off fifteen seconds after you apparate in. The plan is simple, we apparate in, Teams one, two, and three hit potter with every curse they can throw until he's dead. Team four and five throw as many indiscriminate heavy artillery curses as possible into the guests, taking priority to hit the acting Minister should the opportunity arise. Once Potter is dead, teams one through three join teams four and five in killing as many people as possible. We get paid a bonus for every dead attendee. Fifteen seconds gentlemen. Fifteen seconds. If someone is stunned, wounded, or killed, ignore them. The portkeys will automatically return us here, alive or dead. Prepare yourselves gentlemen, the operation begins in two hours. In three hours, we'll all be rich enough to retire ten times over."

Another slide, once again a picture of Harry Potter. "Remember gentlemen, he is weakened, he is hurting, and he's probably slowly going insane. For all that, he's still a very dangerous man. Don't let your guard down just because he's weak. Underestimate him, and you will likely find out why you-know-who is dead."

Unknown to the rest of the team, one of the men, Carmichael Clearwater, wasn't on board with the mission. He may have ran away from his family, but he kept up with them none the less. He knew his cousin Penelope married into the Weasley family, and he knew Harry Potter was marrying into the Weasley family. He knew his cousin, and likely, a great deal of his family, would be present.

Just because he was tired of the political climate in England didn't mean he turned his back on his responsibilities to his family. Out of the entire team, none of the others even knew what a Patronus was. No one outside of Britain had need for a spell that fought Dementors after all. With it, he could send a warning. Killing civilians isn't what he signed up for, especially when who knows how many of them might be related.

xxxxx

The man hadn't even fully apparated in yet before Harry's stunner hit him, causing a very fatal case of splinching. His second stunner wasn't so lucky, with his second target ready for it, smoothly deflecting it before returning a powerful cutting curse, too broad to deflect. Knowing he was between the curse and Hermione, her parents, and his godson, Harry had no choice but to throw up the most powerful shield he could, and threw an arm between himself and the curse. He didn't have enough magic to manage a conjuration.

Rocking back slightly from the impact, he felt his shield give way under the curse, and his left arm slice open length wise, which was somewhat preferable to his throat splitting open. Already guests began screaming, while what few Auror's were in attendance were finally getting their wands into action. Lowering his arm, Harry was about to reply in kind when his opponent took a blasting hex to the chest, spraying bone and gore across the field, courtesy of Ginny.

Turning to find his next target, Harry froze. Both the Granger's were down, clutching their throat while blood was seeping out far too quickly. Several other guests were already down, including more than one red head. Hermione was fighting three men at once, too busy trying to keep herself and little Teddy alive to notice her parents were bleeding out. Ron, Bill, and Fleur were all engaging two more, while the Dark Mark was already floating in the sky. Several more Death Eaters were around the area, some firing randomly, bust most seemed to be making a beeline for him.

Ginny's scream brought Harry's attention back to his immediate surroundings. Bringing his wand to bear, doing what he could to protect her. Firing off a trio of blasting hexes, Harry caught one of her attackers in the side, blowing small chunks out of him. Not enough to kill, but more than enough to end his participation in the fight. Six months ago, any of those three would have killed the man. Ginny's second opponent managed to blow through Ginny's shield with a curse he couldn't recognize. Launching curse after curse, Harry did what little he could to protect her, before an explosion blew him off his feet.

Rolling with the explosion, Harry shakily stumbled back to his feet, firing every curse he could think of, dropping another attacker with a reducto to the chest before taking a bone breaker to his shoulder, and a cutting curse laying him open across his side. They were certainly going for qauntity over quality with their curses, but it was working. He heard another scream from Ginny, this time abruptly cutting off before he collapsed to his knees, his thigh being opened up to the bone from another curse.

He didn't even have to look. He'd already seen some of the curses these Death Eater's were throwing around. He knew without a doubt that his wife was dead. Closing his eyes, Harry's wand slipped from his blood-slick fingertips as tears started to run down his face. He couldn't even remember why his wand arm was bleeding. Not that it mattered to him. With the death of his wife, Harry had given up, and sat there waiting for his death. He felt the heat of the curse that was to kill him. Harry just turned his head to take a last look at his wife before he died. He never saw the curse, nor did he hear the incantation, yet he knew what it was. Fiend Fyre. Even if he wanted to fight on, he couldn't stop it. He couldn't dodge. He couldn't apparate.

As the heat of the incoming curse got to be unbearable, he was tackled to the ground. Even through the body, the curse still burned. He could only imagine the pain his rescuer was going through as her screams ripped through the air, and the smell of her burned flesh overwhelmed him. After a few seconds, Harry realized that the sounds changed. He couldn't hear any more fighting, only screaming and crying. It was then that he realized the loudest scream he could hear was Hermione's off to the side. Whoever tackled him had stopped screaming. Opening his eyes, his vision was filled with Luna's blue eyes, tears running down her face from the pain. He turned his head. The last thing he saw before passing out from blood loss was the burrow consumed by Fiend Fyre, and a screaming Hermione thrashing on the ground, his Godson nowhere to be seen.

xxxxx

As the survivors of the raid collapsed in a heap, they started taking stock of how many they lost. "Hey! Where's the boss!?'

"He was the first one in!"

"I saw Potter splinch him across half the grounds! The little shit actually hit him with a stunner before he even fully apparated in!"

"How the fuck?"

"Headcount! Is anyone else missing?"

"Carmichael is missing too! Anyone see what happened to him?"

"Gentlemen. I would like to congratulate all you...one two three...seven survivors." Before the man got through even half his sentence, several curses went through him. "Come now, if I were able to physically get here, I would have killed Potter myself. So I assume he is dead? If he killed that many of you, you mustn't be as good as I've been led to believe."

"It was a god damn trap! Who the fuck are you?"

"Pity your leader managed to die, would save so many questions. Well, a deal is a deal, and I'll honor my end even if I'm disappointed in your results. Fifteen men attacking a lone Harry Potter. I expected at least twelve of you to survive. No matter, one dead Potter for a large helping of money."

"Lone? LONE!? You had us hit him at his wedding! It started alright but half the people attending his wedding fought harder than most security forces!"

"I may have to revise my opinion. To kill Potter while he is surrounded by a majority of the powerful witches and wizards in Europe. I'm not sure if I should be impressed, or if I should kill you for being stupid. I highly doubt you can hide your tracks well enough to avoid retaliation. What would inspire you to attack him at his wedding? Don't you fools know that the people attending his wedding were the people that went toe to toe with Voldemort or his Death Eaters and lived? Not only that, but such a public execution? I doubt your original extraction plan will work. I'd imagine his wife and that Granger girl will not rest until you are all dead."

"Er...both the brides are dead."

"...I see. I also realize that none of you have explicitly stated that Potter is dead. Is Potter dead?"

"...I don't know..."

"Fifty Million USD was the agreed upon price. And you failed to deliver because you had to hit his wedding? Even worse, you manage to kill his wife AND the Granger girl?"

"You said you would pay a bonus for every dead attendee and for the minister!"

"I never said any such thing." The man frowned in though. "Ah, yes, I understand. Your boss double booked the job. I shouldn't be too surprised, there are a great many people in Europe with both gold and the desire to see Potter go away for political or personal reasons. His greed just murdered all of you." The man just laughed as every wand was raised at him.

"As if I would waste my time. No, I fear what I could do to you will pale in comparison to what Potter and his friends will. Make no mistake, there is nowhere on or off this planet you can get to that will save you from the man that killed Voldemort. At the very least, I shall find it entertaining." The man began to laugh as his imaged faded out.

xxxxx

_August 21st 1991_

Iris woke up, as she felt her brother shifting. She fell asleep at his bedside again. Raising her head, she looked up at her brother. He was thrashing around in his sleep and crying again. She didn't know what nightmares haunted him so, and neither did anyone else. They didn't know if it was a side effect of surviving the killing curse, or something to do with the unknown curse used against him. For the past three weeks, Harry has been in and out of nightmares, more than once waking up the household with his screaming or crying. Everyone except himself.

Iris grabbed Harry's hand, holding it to her face, lightly crying. She held on, until he stopped moving again. Looking back to his face, she could see his eye's looking back at her. They seemed different, older, harsher. How could they not after what happened? Yet, they also seemed more loving, caring, and compassionate than they used to be.

"Harry?" Iris managed to launch herself from her chair, straight at Harry, wrapping her arms around him. "Don't leave me like that Harry! I was so scared! I..I thought you died!"

Harry just wrapped his arms around her. Around his sister. His _family_. "I'm sorry." It came out as a whisper. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry..." Harry was powerless to do anything but hold her as she cried. He held her tight as she cried for him. "Why? Why did you jump in front of that curse for me? I thought you were dead!"

"Shh. I'm alright. I'm alright. Where are we?" Harry gently stroked his hand through her hair.

"I can't tell you since we're hiding someone here, only the secret keeper can."

"A Fidelius?" Harry nearly cringed once he realized what he said. He's supposed to be eleven, not eighty. The last thing he wanted to do was give himself away. Would they hate him for not being _their_ Harry? He didn't want to even risk it.

"Iris? Give Harry a bit of room to breathe." James stood at the doorway, watching Harry somewhat apprehensively, with a potion in his hand. "Uncle Padfoot is here. Why don't you go say hi to him? I've got to give Harry a potion, and talk to him for a few minutes."

At the end of July, he could barely get the kids in the same room without them trying to kill each other. Now, he has trouble chasing Iris out of Harry's room. It got to the point that they eventually moved her bed into the same room as Harry's because she refused to leave his side while waiting for him to wake up.

Finally shooing Iris out of the room, eyes still red from crying, James passed the potions to his son. "Drink up Harry, it should help with the pain." Apprehensively, Harry grabbed the potion. It felt heavy. It was then that he realized how much weight he lost. Finally, Harry just shrugged, and drank the entire potion.

Setting the potion down, Harry sighed and refused to meet James's eyes. Looking down, he saw a lightning bolt scar on his chest, over his heart. Idly, he ran a finger over it.

"We think that's from the killing curse. It's just like the scar the Witch-who-lived has."

Harry continued to rub it. He knew exactly what it was. No, _who_ it was. His Hermione. The physical manifestation of a soul fragment bound to his own soul. He knew he would never be alone again. She trusted him to carry what little of her was left, and to live on. Even then, it hurt. How it hurt, to know that she wasn't just dead, but worse than dead. She ripped apart her own soul, and used a portion of it to power her magic.

"How's mum?" Harry managed to choke the words out, trying to push thoughts of his now dead wife from his mind.

"She's doing fine. She has spent the past few weeks brewing every medical potion I've ever heard of, and probably invented a few new ones while at it. She'll be walking around just fine by the time you leave for Hogwarts. How about you Son? You've been out over three weeks."

Harry shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I feel about as bad as I look."

Both Harry and James sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes, both for different reasons. Harry didn't know how he was supposed to act, and was frankly, frightened out of his wits. What if they find out? James just didn't know how to deal with his son. A great deal had passed between the Harry and the family, and most of it wasn't good. He acted, at best, like a spoiled child, and usually, much worse. A month ago, had someone asked James if Harry would eat a killing curse for his sister, or hell, for anyone, he would have said no. He didn't think it likely that Harry would have even pushed someone into a swimming pool if they were on fire. The fact that he dive tackled his sister to save her was so out of character, that James was lost.

"Moony was hurt pretty badly."

"What happened? Is he going to be alright?"Harry looked up, concern in his eyes. James failed to hide his surprise that Harry actually cared. In return, Harry couldn't hide the hurt in his eyes. Already, he felt that he failed his family. _Have I really been that poor of a son?_ The question was on the tip of his tongue.

"He was guarding The-Witch-Who-Lived, along with Jameson and Amelia. Moony barely made it out alive, taking a curse meant for the girl. I don't think he'll be able to continue as an Auror. I'm sorry Harry, it's my fault you were attacked. I stuck my nose into something, and now someone is trying to kill us and the girl. We're in hiding. This is Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Sirius finally claimed his birthright, to protect us." Harry felt the secret settle. Grimmauld Place. Now that he KNEW where he was, it was so obvious. Things were worse than he thought if Sirius actually claimed it.

More importantly however, was a sharp annoyance. He didn't know who The-Witch-Who-Lived was, but if she was anything like him, she absolutely loathed her title. "Please don't call her that. She has a name. She's more than just a hyphenated title."

James chuckled. "She said the same thing. Maybe I'll introduce you to her if you manage to get out of bed. She's here too. Tomorrow, we're taking her shopping for her wand. If you can manage it, we'll take you at the same time."

"I think I'd like that dad."

James ruffled his hand through Harry's hair. "Get some rest son. You're still recovering. You're only coming tomorrow IF I think you're up to it." What James didn't say was just how many Auror's were about to get dragged out to Diagon Alley tomorrow, or how relieved he was that Harry would be able to get his wand under the watchful eyes of that many Auror's, even if James had to cart him there in a hospital bed. Harry understood it regardless. He may have let Hermione do all the thinking, because she was so much better at it than anyone else he ever met, but that didn't mean he was stupid. Far from it.

"Alright son, I'll be up to check on you in a bit. Your mother is sleeping right now, I'll send her in when she wakes up. She's been worried sick about you."

Harry just nodded as James left. He wasn't sure what to say to her. He didn't know how to relate to his family at all. He was equally filled with joy and dread as the prospect of having a real family. He didn't get much time to think before he heard someone moving. Looking at the source of the noise, he strained to see the blurring of a disillusionment charm or invisibility cloak, but could see neither. He heard the movement again, and knew what it was. It was _his_ invisibility cloak, the Deathly Hallow. Well, his father's cloak, since he was still alive. The only question was, who was under it.

Under his stare, whoever was under it was quickly getting unnerved. He could hear the tiny movements they kept making, being too nervous to stand still. "It might be more comfortable if you take a seat." Whoever was under the cloak hesitated before slowly shuffling to the chair Iris was in. That definitely made Harry feel better. If whoever it was meant to hurt him, they would have already done so. "Who are you?"

"I'm sorry". The voice came out, barely even a whisper. Harry, even straining his senses as he was, barely heard her. His heart stopped for a moment as he recognized the voice. Sitting up, he swung his legs so they were hanging off the side of the bed, and almost pitched over off the bed for his efforts.

As Harry managed to stabilize himself, he gently reached out for the voice, feeling the smooth watery fabric of the cloak. "S...sorry?" As he gripped the cloak, and began pulling it down, he could feel the girl shift under it as she started quietly cry.

"It's always my fault. If it wasn't for me...I'm sorry." Slowly, Harry pulled the cloak off her. He dropped it when her unruly bushy mane came into view, afraid of what it meant. Afraid of why she would be here. As the cloak fell to the floor, he could see her. Curled into a ball, with her knee's pulled up and her face tucked into them, arms holding her legs to her body, rocking slightly.

"They attacked you because they couldn't get to me..." She never looked up at him as she continued to cry.

"Hermione..." Harry reached back out to stroke his hand through her hair. As he made contact, he could feel her tense up and flinch. "It's alright, I won't hurt you Hermione." Fearfully, she pulled back from his touch, afraid of him.

_"She's had a shitty life Harry, worse than your life."_ Finally, Harry understood what Hermione was asking of him. For all that happened to him, during his tenure as the-boy-who-lived, _that_ disgusting act never happened to him.

Sliding off the bed, Harry struggled to keep standing, having to hold onto the bed with one hand to save himself from falling. Again, he reached out with his free hand, running it through Hermione's hair, down her cheek, and finally to her chin. She tried to pull away, but not very hard, putting up only a token resistance. Slowly, he lifted her head until he could see her face. What he saw made his blood run cold. She had several scars along her face. The most prominent being the lightning bolt curse scar. The rest were more mundane, the signs of beatings and abuse. No single scar was very large, and he couldn't see most of them very well, but they were there none the less.

He was too busy studying her face, and thinking of ways to find out _who_ he was going to kill for this, that it took him several seconds to realize her eye's widened in recognition. Even her token resistance died as she looked at the lightning bolt scar over his heart. Tentatively, she reached out. She reached out and touched the scar over his heart. She stroked it for a few seconds before realizing just what she was doing. Pulling back, she knocked Harry's hand off her face, before burying her face back into her knee's. Again, she quietly squeaked out a rushed apology.

"It's alright. I don't blame you Hermione. I don't hate you." Harry wasn't sure which Hermione he was talking to.

"But you were hurt because of me..."

"No. No Hermione. I was hurt, because someone wanted to hurt my family. It's not your fault when bad people do bad things. It's _never_ your fault. It's _their_ fault." Harry wasn't going to put up with what essentially amounted to a female version of his younger self. Always afraid. Afraid to be seen. Afraid to be heard. Afraid to stand out. Afraid that anything that went wrong was his fault. Afraid to live. It took him _years_ to be broken from that.

Knowing that was a battle he'd never hope to win in a day, or probably even a year, Harry switched tactics. "Have you eaten yet?"

Harry had to suppress a smile. Watching her bushy hair swing as she shook her head reminded him of much better times. Before he ever learned that he had to kill Voldemort. Before he learned that Voldemort was only the beginning of his problems. "Tell you what, as an apology, you can help me down to the kitchen and join me for a meal." Her head barely nodded. It was a start at least.

"HARRY! Put some clothes on! Honestly Harry, standing in front of Hermione half naked you insensitive prat!" Harry smiled apologetically to Iris as she stormed into the room yelling at him. He had to work to avoid a full blown grin. _Honestly Harry_. She sounded so much like his Hermione.

"I don't suppose you know where I can find a shirt then? I was about to start looking for one, but I'm fairly sure I'm going to collapse as soon as I let go of the bed." He didn't even get to finish speaking before Iris ripped open a closet door and threw at shirt at him. The last bit came out muffled as his shirt covered his face. Harry took a moment to glare at his sister, before his face softened and he smiled. Family. You can hate them all you want, but in the end, you'll still love them.

"Thanks for the shirt." Harry started slipping into it. "I was about to get something to at with Hermione. If it's alright with her, care to join us?"

"You've been bed-ridden and unconscious for over three weeks, and the first thing you're going to do is walk down to the kitchen?" Harry shrugged.

"I'm hungry. It's not like I haven't had worse." Whoops. He probably hasn't had worse.

Iris just rolled her eyes. "Please, the worst you ever had was a skinned knee."

"Iris! I'm hurt! Do you really think so little of me?" Harry chuckled to show he was joking.

She flinched as if she was hit. She _did_ think that little of him. Even if she wouldn't have used the exact words, Harry was always a spoiled arrogant ass worthy of being a Malfoy. _Who jumped in front of a killing curse for you._ "I'm sorry Harry..."

Without thinking, Harry took a step to go comfort her. Letting go of the bed, the only thing holding him up, he nearly collapsed. Unfortunately, he also tripped on the invisibility cloak he left sitting on the ground. Hermione panicked and reached out to catch him, before being ripped out the chair to fall with him. Iris did the same, trying to catch him. Instead, all three collapsed into a group together.

Harry, much to his embarrassment, opened his eyes and realized his head was someplace it really shouldn't be. A portion of his brain did however, note that his sister was developing fairly early, but definitely needed a few more years. Before the embarrassment of having his head in his sisters chest could set in or having mentally commented on his sisters chest, he realized what fell on his back. She couldn't have weighed much more than sixty pounds, nearly two-thirds what she should weigh. Oh, yes, once he got his magic back up to a usable level, people were going to _die_. He was already imagining nailing someone's skin to the door of the daily prophet.

"Oww. Harry!" Iris started trying to push Harry off of her.

Looking up into his sisters face, Harry struggled to smile. "Sorry." As Hermione scrambled off his back, Harry managed to roll off Iris and sit up.

"Really Harry, you shouldn't be trying to walk around!" Harry just stuck a tongue out in reply.

"Can you two help me up? And I still owe Hermione here lunch." With a roll of her eyes, Iris reached down and grabbed on his arms. To her surprise, Hermione cautiously reached down and grabbed his other arm. Together they pulled him to his feet.

"I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?"

"All signs point to no. Lets go grab something to eat, I'm seriously starving." With the two witches supporting Harry, the trio made it down to the kitchen in one piece, despite the best attempts of the staircase. Pushing Harry off into a chair, Iris put some tea on and started making sandwiches.

"Iris, where is everyone?"

"Dad and Padfoot went to go get Moony. They should be back in a bit."

"How is Moony? Dad said he was hurt." Harry had to put a hand on Hermione's shoulder to keep her steady when Iris glanced at her.

"He's...not good. His career as an Auror was just ended. They're at the ministry finishing the paperwork."

"What do you mean his career was ended?"

"She mean's that I can't walk unassisted anymore."

All three children were startled as Moony hobbled in with great difficulty using a cane, followed by James and Sirius. The crippled Marauder shot the kids a smile. "Looks like you've finally woken up cub. You've had us all worried about you. Even the healers didn't know what was wrong with you."

"Moony, you don't have to tell him that much, you'll scare the poor kid." Sirius said with a smile.

"I'm pretty sure if knowingly taking a killing curse for Iris and some unknown curse for Lily didn't scare him, then we can be honest with him. Mmm, early lunch, don't mind if I do." Moony reached over and took a sandwich that Iris just made, prompting her to glare at him.

James slapped Sirius upside the back of his head. "My son isn't some fragile kid that needs to be handled like glass."

"That isn't what you said last month Prongs."

A rat crawled out of Moony's pocket before transforming into Peter. "Well, that was because last month, he was some pampered ponce that would cry if he were hit by a stiff breeze. Who knew the kid had it in him. Makes me glad I decided not to leave droppings on his pillow when Lily took him shopping for school supplies. I'd hate to anger a man that ate a killing curse and got right back up." This Peter was very different. He wasn't the fat rat faced man that Harry remembered. Instead, he was built more like a weight lifter. Even then, Harry had to hide his shock at seeing the rat that killed his family.

"Wormtail, how long where you riding in my pocket?"

"Ah, well, Prongs and Padfoot here asked me to keep an eye on you while you were at the ministry. So, really, all morning."

Moony shook his head. "Why do I put up with you people?"

"Admit it Moony, you know you'd miss me."

"I should have never rescued you from the death eaters all those years ago..."

"Oh, I'm sure THAT would have ended well. Padfoot's sister here was going to hand me to Voldemort to have my brains scrambled. I'd hate to imagine what I'd be capable of as your trusted friend after being mind scrambled by the dark tosser. Even worse, I can just see him now. 'Peter, you have real purty lips.' We all know he had to be a poofter, Bellatrix would have shouted it from the Rooftops if he actually touched her. I'd have probably woken in my bed as a sleeper agent wondering why my arsehole was itching."

All four of the Marauders shared a laugh before James grabbed a sandwich and turned to his son. "Harry, you should be in bed. What are you doing down here?"

"I was _trying_ to get a bite to eat with Hermione and my sister." Harry held his hand out, waiting for his sandwich. James just chuckled.

"Looks like the pup grew a big brass set while he was sleeping. I might have to teach the pup a lesson."

"Are you even house broken?" Harry shot back. Sirius gave him a dark look, and began to menacingly advance. Hermione didn't see the other three adults smile at the scene, and began to lean into Harry. An action that drew looks from everyone else but Padfoot and Harry. Harry just instinctively wrapped an arm around her.

As Sirius closed the distance, and looked at Harry, he could see in Harry's eyes that he was _laughing_ at his attempt to intimidate him. When his face was finally inches from Harry's, Sirius finally broke down laughing before slapping him on the shoulder.

"We'll make a Marauder out of you yet! James, hand the man a Sandwich! He's earned it!" His proclamation drew laughter from everyone, except Hermione who seemed to be gripping Harry in a death hug. As James passed the sandwich he took to Harry, Harry passed it off to Hermione.

"As Hungry as I am, I think she needs it more than I do." The Marauder's all nodded, somewhat uncomfortably, except for Sirius.

"You work fast Pronglet. Been awake maybe ten minutes and already got a girlfriend." James and Peter both slapped him upside the back of his head while Remus whacked him with his can, and Iris threw a roll of paper towels into his face. Harry just sighed while Hermione recoiled away from him.

"Way to ruin the moment, she was just starting to get comfortable around me."

Impervious to the assaults he just suffered, Sirius continued on. "Which is amazing in and of itself, the only people she ever touched until now were Lily and Iris." Sirius may have sounded insensitive, but he didn't want to dance around the elephant in the room. He wanted to treat her like a normal eleven year old girl. In his opinion, it's been working little by little. The only difference in how he treated her compared to any other eleven year old that would be unfortunate enough to live in his home was the lack of pranks. Baby steps. Have to take baby steps.

Iris finally finished making sandwiches, having made several more than she originally meant to, since she was now feeding everyone in the house except Lily. "It could have something to do with Harry being a gentleman, unlike some people I can name."

Setting the plate on the table, Iris poured some tea for everyone before taking her seat next to Hermione, who quickly latched onto her for comfort. Sirius gave a smile at the scene. "I see she still prefers you. She does have good taste..."

James groaned. "That's my daughter, I don't need to hear that."

"I'm just saying, you're gonna have a lot of boys to intimidate in a couple years. Shouldn't be hard. You can definitely be scary when you want to be." Everyone laughed, even Hermione let out a small chuckle. The group spent the next half hour talking and joking around.

"So what time do I need to be ready tomorrow?" James raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Can you even walk Harry?"

"Umm, with Hermione and Iris carrying me, I can sort of hobble. I should be able to walk by tomorrow." James shrugged. Now that Harry was awake, they could stuff him with enough potions to get him mobile in the next twenty minutes if they needed. There wasn't anything physically wrong him at this point, other than some muscle atrophy and lingering exhaustion. The chance to take him with a heavy Auror escort was too important to not let him go. Lily and Iris would murder him if he didn't take Harry tomorrow.

"We'll be heading out at nine, with a heavy Auror escort. You're going to stay close, and no more jumping in front of curses. Sirius managed to get some dragon hide armour. Unfortunately, on such short notice, we only have enough for you and Hermione at the moment." Harry nodded before Yawning.

"Well pup, looks like you need a nap. I'm sure these two witches will be more than happy to escort you up to your room and tuck you in." Iris gave Sirius a two finger salute in reply while sticking out her tongue.

Harry just shrugged, not bothering to let his godfathers teasing get to him. "I think that sounds like a good idea actually. I'm pretty tired myself."

As Iris and Hermione dragged Harry back up the stairs, James turned to the other Marauders. "Ok, I can understand Hermione, but can one of you three explain why neither Harry nor Iris batted an eyelash at your language?"

Suddenly, the three other Marauders found the floor and ceiling real interesting.

"Lily is going to kill me if she learns that you three talk like that around the kids..."

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. With luck, I can actually stick with a chapter a week update schedule. Critiques appreciated. If you spot something wrong, let me know and I'll try to get it fixed up. Remember, if you think my writing sucks, let me know how it sucks so I can do it better. Also, WHOOPS! Mistakes have been made and fixed! Sorry ^_^;;  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well bloody obviously my "Update weekly" plan fell though. Holy. Crap. I wasn't expecting to have nearly as much difficulty writing dialogue as I am. It's always the dialogue...**

**CHAPTER 3**

_December 7th, 1998_

Harry wasn't in a good mood. To say such would, undoubtedly, be putting it mildly. He woke nearly three weeks ago. 'Oh, you're awake? Well, your wife is dead, your godson is dead, your best friend is in a coma and lost her unborn child, her husband lost a leg, her parents and their unborn child are dead, George is dead, several other guests are dead, and you missed their funerals. Would you like a cup of joe? Oh, I forgot, you Brits drink tea, don't you?'. Okay, in all fairness, they weren't _that_ crude about informing him, but he didn't care. Harry was well past the sadness of loss, and well into anger.

He didn't know where he was. No one who knew would tell him. He knew the facility was American, and it was about as high security as it could get. The few times the door to the room opened, he could see armed guards outside. Not wands, but rifles, grenades, and military uniforms. The staff seemed to consist of both magicals and muggles.

Only two things kept him from completely losing what little sanity he actually had. The first, Luna Lovegood, who actually pestered the medical staff into moving her into the same room. She hadn't spoken a single word to him of Nargles, or Crumple horned Snorkacks, or wrackspurts, or anything else of the like. She was hurting, just as much as he was. When they talked, they talked of themselves, their families, and their friends.

The second thing to help Harry keep his sanity, though a psychiatrist would likely disagree, was a conversation he had the day after he woke up. A bribe, so to speak. A bribe, and a reason to not just yet roll over and die.

xxxxx

_"Harry Potter? Come now, I'm bringing good news, you can stop with the death glare." Harry continued to glare at the man. "Alright, you're starting to make me uncomfortable, and very glad that your magic is bound." Unbidden, the man took a seat, resting his briefcase on his legs. Opening it, he pulled out a folder. _

"_Harry, you have two choices here. You can stew in grief and hatred, or you can do something about it. In this folder, is information on all seven of the men who attacked your wedding, and got away. I assure you, we are doing everything we can to track them down, and don't underestimate the resources at our disposal. Ultimately, we'd like to give you the option of taking care of them when we find them. All we ask in return is that you work for us." The man tossed the folder to Harry._

_Picking up the folder, Harry began flipping through it, studying names and faces. Harry learned to do two things very well over his life. To love, and to hate. Nothing teaches hate the way that losing those you love can. "And just who are you exactly?"_

"_I represent a multinational organization the encompasses most of Western Europe, along with the United States and Canada. Non-magical governments have grown tired of their citizens being victimized in your senseless and ongoing blood war. After a few millenia, one would think you people would tire of the slaughter, but you keep going at it. You don't even have the decency to make up new reasons."_

"_And why would I be interested in working for you?"_

"_Easy. We're bribing you. If that isn't enough, the entire purpose is to prevent such things like what happened to you. We don't care about how rich you are, or who your parents are. I don't care how much you can donate to my bank account. Can your ministry, even now, say the same? Why are the Malfoy's not in prison? You can make a case for Narcissa, she actively aided you at the height of Voldemort's power, when he had already won. What of Draco, who nearly murdered several of your classmates? His father, who probably murdered more people than any other Death Eater? They are free because they have money. Is that the world you want to live in? Where those who want to murder on a whim are free to go because they have money?"_

_Harry grimaced. He knew half the reason they were free was because it was the sort of thing Dumbledore would have done. "They fell out of Voldemort's favor long before the final battle."_

"_Irrelevant. They were still Death Eaters. Lucius still killed on command. He still believes in the ideas of blood purity, and that muggles are there to be hunted for sport. Draco is no different, only too much of a coward to dirty his own hands. The Malfoy's are merely one example. One of many. They will support the next belligerent in your next blood war. They happen like clockwork, every generation."_

"_And what is your solution?"_

"_Have you heard of NATO? Good, you aren't completely unaware of the mundane world. Our solution is a new organization currently being put together, under the command of NATO. We want you to be a part of it. We're also approaching several other powerful witches and wizards. Our solution, is the formation of a new international combat unit for taking down magical threats. It is no longer open season on the mundane world. There will be consequences for crimes committed. Those willing to live in peace are more than welcome. Live and let live. Those unwilling to keep the peace, will not be capable of making the same mistake twice. Capabilities have changed since Grindelwalds time. The world itself would not survive another such war. Just think about the offer for a while." _

"_Who the hell do you think you are, to determine who lives and who dies like that?"_

"_Let me counter that with my own question. Who the hell do you think you are to not put them down like the rabid dogs they are? Are you truly so sadistic that you want to put them into a prison so vile that being tortured to death would be a comparative mercy? Or perhaps let them walk away so they can commit the same crimes all over again? It's easy to do nothing, but I've been charged with protecting nearly thirty countries. I wasn't given this responsibility to cry about how mean it is to kill those trying to kill the people I am sworn to protect. If you let them live, every drop of blood they spill later is your fault. I can almost guarantee that someone you let live is responsible for what happened at your wedding." Standing back up, the man excused himself._

_At the door, he stopped. "Don't worry about contacting us, we'll contact you. Your friend Luna is here as well, and she already accepted the same deal. Now that you're awake, I'll see to it that you two can visit. I hear she's been asking about you. Daily."_

xxxxx

The truth was, Harry was never far from a complete mental breakdown for as long as he could remember. Mentally and emotionally abused for as long as he could remember, physically beaten by his Dudley and his gang, famous because his parents died leaving him alive, expected to fight and win a war against a madman. The only surprise is that Harry took as long as he did to breakdown and throw his morals to the wayside.

Both he and Luna were given the offer, Luna just didn't hesitate to accept. Her sanity was certainly questionable, but her loyalty to her few friends and family wasn't. She lost her father in the attack, and many of her friends. The only people she had left were Harry, Neville and Ron. Anyone else she knew was, at best, an acquaintance. Even then, Neville and Ron weren't very close friends. Ron Tolerated her, at best. Neville was apparently overcome with grief himself, as he lost his Grandmother and his fiance Hannah in the attack.

Visitors in this hospital were kept to an absolute minimum. Only two in fact. The second was Kingsley. After the usual meaningless platitudes, he strongly advised them to _not_ accept the deal. To move on with their lives. He deeply disagreed with muggle governments having any say at all in the wizarding world, blind to the reality that the wizarding world had consistently failed the muggle world by not upholding it's end of the Statutes of Secrecy. He even went so far as to subtly hint that it could be considered illegal to help muggles hunt wizards. Subtle, like a blasting hex. At least his heart didn't truly seem to be in it, making it more of an empty threat than anything.

Harry could concede that the man meant well, but it didn't matter. He finally had something to _live_ for, just to helplessly watch as it was all ripped away. The hatred and sorrow in his heart wouldn't let him just move on. Harry knew it would be a dark road to walk down, but the only other choice was to lay down and die. Vengeance might not be something to truly _live_ for, but it was a reason to _not die_. To maybe survive long enough to again live.

Looking over at Luna, Harry spared her a small smile. She was, without a doubt, hurting just as much. He took comfort in her presence. Not that she was hurting, but that he wasn't alone. That one of his few remaining friends, in _her_ hour of need, wasn't alone either. Together, they've been spending the weeks holding each others sanity together.

In terms of physical trauma, she was much worse off than Harry. Physically speaking, Harry should have been fine with five minutes of medical care and a day or two in bed. His problems were all stemming from the killing curse still, but he was on the road to recovery. Luna however, was in terrible shape. When she saved his life, she put herself between Fiend Fyre and him. Only the barest amount touched her, searing off a large chunk of skin and muscle from her back. Due to the nature of Fiend Fyre, the damage couldn't be magically healed. Not by standard means at least. Here however, she was receiving experimental treatments, both magical and muggle. And it was working. She would never again wear a bikini to a public beach without scaring people, but she would heal. She would recover.

The mental scars however? He didn't know. Her loss hurt her deeply. She never had many friends, and to lose so many of them in moments. Like him, she lost much of her reason to live.

The door opened, and their only other visitor walked in. The same man that walked in three weeks ago, and made an offer. "Good afternoon Mister Potter, Miss Lovegood. I've heard your minister visited. I assume he informed you that under wizarding law, accepting my offer may be a bit of a legal gray area, correct?"

Harry nodded. "He said something to that effect."

"The good news is, what your minister says is meaningless. The ICW has signed off on this project, in desperation no doubt. I'm afraid things aren't going very good for the magical world right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Mister Potter, I'll be frank with you. The statutes of secrecy are about to fail. Magical Europe is in the middle of yet another civil war, and a major one. For the first time in two centuries, there isn't someone to keep them in line, so to speak. Every now and then, there are witches or wizards born that are, pardon the language but it is most apt, freaks of magic."

Harry gave an extremely displeased look at the mention of the word 'freak'.

"For some reason, their ability to use magic goes well beyond what is normal. Althena in the early 1800's was the first one born in a few centuries, then they started coming out the woodwork. Every time a dark wizard began to rise and the local ministry couldn't handle it, she would."

"Althena? I've never heard of her."

"Of course you haven't Harry. Hogwarts has the best magical education the world over, except in potions, history, and Defense. Your history education is, to be blunt, utterly pathetic. After all, I'm not even a wizard, yet I know more magical world history than the vast majority of people with History of Magic NEWTs, and I don't particularly know much. Back to the point, Althena the Able. Short story, she lost her husband and eight children when she was thirty-two. Years of using more magic a day maintaining her home than most families use in a week gave her a certain amount of control, familiarity, and power. Enough so that she managed to smash down anything in her path. Malrika the Mad, the Witch making her bid for domination at the time and had her family killed, was crushed within a month. After a few more upstart dark lords, she established her bonafides. When someone got too big to handle, the ICW called her in."

"OK. So she killed the Voldemorts of her age before they became Grindelwalds."

"Not quite. More like killing the Malfoys of her age before they subverted the local ministries. The disparity between her and those she fought would be likened to Dumbledore fighting almost anyone else. Her opponents were competent, but hopelessly outclassed. Grindelwald is in a category of his own. Naturally, people aren't completely stupid. When enough people die doing something, people stop doing it. Next, Aldric the Addled, love the names you guys give people by the way, I had to verify these histories through fourteen separate ministries before I finally accepted that I wasn't being circle jerked. Anyways, Aldric the Addled, the Voldemort of her age, killed her in open combat in 1879. Three ministries surrendered to him by the next day, but he never knew nor cared. He just wanted to kill powerful witches and wizards."

"Let me guess, every time someone began to make a name for themselves, Aldric killed them."

"Right in one. I'm pretty sure you can see where I'm going, but I'll finish anyways. Aldric was killed in 1908 by Michelle Fuller, muggle born from Montana, in the United States. Unfortunate, since Aldric would have likely killed Grindelwald in a few years. Michelle stayed out of the lime light, but people were afraid. A boogeyman just killed their boogeyman. It was nearly a decade before people started testing the waters. Five years later, Grindelwald began to purge up and coming dark lords before any of their conflicts could get out of hand. It is, after all, an excellent source of money. Not only can you rob them as you kill them, but the ICW pays bounties, and many Ministries pay them as well. That provided the resources he needed to overthrow the German Ministry when he was ready. Fast forward to 1945. With a great deal of help from Miss Fuller, Germany's magical advantage in World War II was mostly nullified, allowing the allied invasion. With the liberation of the death camps, the blood magic Grindelwald was using was no more. Miss Fuller, Albus Dumbledore, and eleven other witches and wizards fought Grindelwald and his inner circle. Albus Dumbledore was the only one to return, with a defeated Grindelwald. The war ended shortly after.

"How many times did Dumbledore have to get called in?"

"Only Voldemort spurred Dumbledore into direct action. He kept the world in line through politics and publicity. Since Althena, the top witch or wizard of the world has been getting more and more frightening. No one was both capable enough to become a real threat while still being stupid enough to bring Dumbledore down on them. Those who would take power for themselves turned to politics instead of war. That is, until Voldemort. Had he started anywhere but England, he would have raised an army and started an empire. Instead, he went straight for the victory. Killing Dumbledore would have ensured him eventual victory over the magical world. 1997, Dumbledore dies. Weeks later, the Ministry falls. 1998, you kill Voldemort. Those that would seek power at the point of a wand aren't afraid, they're fucking terrified. The wizard everyone thinks of as the second coming Merlin is killed. The Dark Lord he was fighting dies less than a year later. To a Seventeen year old kid. Harry Potter, as far as the bad guys were concerned, you were the scariest mother fucker to ever walk the face of the planet. No one with a functioning brain wanted to be noticed by you. Unfortunately, your poor health was leaked to someone with a great deal of gold and a desire to see you dead. The worlds savior was nearly killed, and suddenly everyone too terrified to make their grab for power the past two centuries is falling all over themselves overthrowing their ministries and trying to set up their own little empires."

Harry gave a dark look to the man. "And you're saying this is my fault?"

"No Mister Potter. This is the fault of people who think they can do as they please and no one will check them. It's certainly not your fault. I'm not here to find a scape goat. If I was, I would blame Dumbledore for raising you like a mushroom. Keeping you in the dark and feeding you shit. I'm here to secure the services of people who can help end the violence before the statutes of secrecy fail and I'm forced to pursue a war against the magical world in general."

"Why us?"

The man looked confused for a second, wondering how he could even ask such a question. "That should be completely obvious Mister Potter. The ability to bribe you also helps."

Luna interrupted. "I believe Harry was wondering why you would recruit me as well, when I haven't even finished Hogwarts."

"Neither has Mister Potter. However, your little school club, the DA, actually had a higher survival rate in combat than trained auror's. What reports have come across my desk have told me she is more than good enough for me to recruit. 17 is the age of majority, so it is legal, barely. And if not, I have a signed pardon sitting in my desk if everything goes to shit, so I'm not going to jail. We don't require NEWTs, or even OWLs. I'm not planning on sending you into combat tomorrow, so if you accept my offer, you will spend a great deal of time training. Even then, you two aren't going to be alone. You'll be working with a team of some of the best soldiers NATO can put together."

Harry glanced to Luna before answering. "I'm not going to let Luna do this alone." In the end, Harry didn't know if throwing his morals away was so easy because he wouldn't let Luna do it alone, or if it truly was that easy to let hate overcome you and throw off the shackles of morality.

xxxxx

_August 21st, 1991_

The rest of Harry's day had been a great deal more miserable. Iris and Hermione dropped him off at his bed, and Hermione wasted almost no time bolting. The way she acted, it was as if she was drawing comfort from him. He had a wild unsubstantiated theory as to why. Multiple wild unsubstantiated theories to be honest. But what little comfort she could draw was certainly drowned out by Sirius's teasing.

Things only went downhill from there. The nightmares he had long since buried, or more accurately, his past, refused to stop haunting him. Exhausted as he was, he couldn't even get a nap in. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see it all over again. The life and times of one Harry James Potter wasn't a pretty story. It was a horror show. An ode to poor decisions, worse luck, and grudging survival.

His unwilling reflection on his life led to another complication. When Lily finally showed up in his room, he found himself unable to meet her eyes. Not only did a part of him feel guilty for essentially wearing her sons body, even if technically it was his body too (though it probably wouldn't hold up in court), but he also had an irrational fear of her judgment. That she would look at him, and _know_ what he had done throughout his life. He knew it was an irrational fear, but a part of him feared it none the less, but even then, how do you face your mom knowing you've killed and _murdered_ in vengeance? It made the ensuing conversation far more awkward. His fondest dream, to have a real family, was in front of him. Cruelly so, since it just reminded him that they weren't _his _family.

Lily sat across from Harry, both trying and failing to start any sort of conversation. The first few minutes were awkward, with Lily crying, yelling at Harry for jumping in front of a killing curse, thanking Harry for jumping in front of a killing curse, and more yelling at Harry for jumping in front of whatever that last curse was. It got somewhat less awkward for Harry, when she stopped crying, yelling at, and thanking him at the same time. Even so, her visit didn't last very long before she left.

Shortly before dinner came around, Harry made an attempt to walk down to the kitchen. Using the wall for support he made it to the stair case before he could hear his parents arguing in hushed tones.

"He needs help! There's more wrong with him than just exhaustion. You only need to look at him to tell that!"

"Lily, who can we go to? You and Harry were in St Mungo's for not even thirty minutes before someone else tried to kill both of you. Until this blows over, we can't risk it!"

"We have to! I can barely walk James! I'm not a healer! I couldn't even fix my own damn leg! A medi-witch would have had me walking fine by the next morning! I couldn't even figure out what was wrong with Harry!"

"Who can we trust? It was the healer that tried to kill Harry!"

"Trust Dumbledore! He can protect us! He'll be more than happy to let Madam Pomfrey take a look at us!"

"No. We can't trust Dumbledore. He'd shuffle us off to some safe house and ignore us. Maybe even just use us as bait. He's the reason we are in this situation. If he did his job right the first time, this wouldn't be happening! At least when the kids get to Hogwarts, _no one _is dumb enough to attack the place. "

"James! Enough of your stupid conspiracy theory! Who else can help us? We need his help. Harry needs his help! Not only that, he needs to know! He can find out how Harry survived the killing curse!"

"Listen to yourself Lily! You want to give up Harry to Dumbledore to be his special project? I refuse! No one will ever know that Harry survived the killing curse, not until he can protect himself."

"If we don't go to Dumbledore, he won't live long enough to learn to protect himself! You said it yourself, it's open season on us! Look at Remus! He can barely walk. Peter nearly lost his head in St Mungos! We need Dumbledore on this! How many more have to be hurt or killed before we can go to Dumbledore for help?"

"No, Lily, I'm sorry, but we can't go to Dumbledore. The Crown is sending help."

"Oh, like you can trust them! Who do you think got _her_ parents killed!? If they knew what they were doing, we wouldn't be in this position! They'll just half ass it like they did with Voldemort!"

"That's enough Lily! We aren't crawling to Dumbledore and begging for his help. We'll end up just like Frank and Alice! Like the Death Eaters, these people aren't afraid to attack someone under his protection, and he won't personally protect us. If anything, he would use us for bait. We'll end up just like Frank and Alice, or just like Hermione. People under his protection keep coming to bad ends!"

Harry didn't even flinch when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry cub. They've been arguing like that since...well, you know. They still love each other dearly."

Harry just nodded dumbly as Remus walked past him, limping on his cane. He's known his family for not even a day, and already it was being ripped apart by a war. A war whose sides he didn't even know. It made Harry feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. Helplessness. Something he never wanted to feel again. It was the same thing he felt for nearly the first quarter of his life. Even with a wand and acting openly, he lacked the raw magical power to be truly dangerous on the scale necessary to end this.

Listening to his mom slam a door shut, Harry found his appetite was dead. Using the wall for support, Harry went back to his room. A few minutes later when his sister came up to drag him to dinner, he just waved her off.

Half an hour later, Harry's lips twitched into an almost smile when he noticed that a plate of food was left on the chair next to his bed. Now that he was paying attention, he heard someone nervously shuffle out of his room. It didn't take a giant leap of logic to guess who left him a plate. She abused his fathers cloak far more than he ever did.

The next morning, Harry managed to make his way down to the kitchen, surprised to find that most the adults were there. Already, a stack of potions were spread across the table. Pepper up, Stamina, numbing, energy, strength, constitution, and even a few he didn't know. With a groan, Harry realized that he was going to be down for a few more days after taking such a selection of potions.

"Good Morning Harry." James smiled sadly at Harry, who was eying the potions with a degree of trepidation. "Sorry son. We don't have much choice. You're going to have to drink all these before we head out."

Sirius tossed a dragon hide vest to Harry. "Put that on pup. You're going to need it."

Letting out a sigh, Harry put his vest on under his shirt. "Thanks. Are we expecting that much trouble?"

"We aren't expecting trouble, but we're ready for it son. I want you to stay close when we go." Grabbing a seat, Harry joined the Marauders for the pre-breakfast conversation, most of it fairly light hearted, while James started cooking.

"Really Prongs? We have to suffer your cooking again?" Peter wrinkled his nose in mock disgust.

"Oh shut up Wormtail. I'm a great cook!"

"I'm about to blow my life savings on a house elf for this place to never have to eat your cooking again."

James just grinned at Peter. "Well, if you didn't want breakfast, you only had to say so."

"Hey now! Lets not be hasty."

"Then set the table, Lily should be down in a minute with the girls for breakfast."

"I don't think she's going to find Hermione..." Sirius smirked as he watched some eggs disappear of the skillet while James wasn't paying attention. He was careful to keep himself between James and Remus's wand hand.

"Why do you say that Padfoot?"

"Because she's already eating breakfast. I think she's fallen in love with your cloak."

Harry and the Marauders shared a quick laugh as James looked down to see half the eggs missing. "Where'd she run off too? That was almost half the eggs..."

"My highly trained and well tuned furry-problem senses tell me she scurried off to another room." James never saw Remus pull his wand, or slip it back.

James just shrugged. "If she didn't need to gain a good twenty pounds to be healthy, I'd probably be more upset. How's the toast coming along?"

"What do yo think she put the eggs on?"

Looking over, James saw half the bacon was missing too. "Ooh, she's good. How many bacon, egg, and toast sandwiches did she make?" Turning back to the group, James frowned as Harry and the other three Marauders were chowing down, as Lily entered the kitchen with Iris and Hermione in tow. The small group was having difficulty stifling their laughter.

"My own son, party to pranking his old man...I'm so proud."

Iris rolled her eyes at the statement while Lily was alternating between giving James a dirty and giving Harry a worried look. Hermione was too busy adjusting her dragon hide armour under her shirt, trying to get comfortable, to pay any attention.

"Sorry Lil's, I wanted to wait for you, but these four had other ideas..."

Lily just shrugged with a look of resignation, taking a plate from James. The group sat through a quiet, uncomfortable breakfast. It quickly became apparent to Harry that everyone was used to the current situation between James and Lily, if not exactly comfortable with it.

As Harry finished his breakfast, he took a wary look at the stack of potions. Hesitantly, he began downing them. After downing the pepper up potion, Hermione fell off her chair at the sight of steam coming his ears, earning a chuckle from everyone, even Lily. After downing the last potion, Lily grabbed Harry in bone crushing hug.

"Be careful Harry. Please, be careful." She shot a glance to the other Marauders. "And don't you let _anything_ happen to Harry again!" No one had the courage to point out that Harry was nearly (well, technically _was_) killed while he was with her. After all, mothers are not only prone to be irrational about their children's safety, but it's also expected and generally accepted.

"Don't worry Lil's. Half the department is going to be there today. That's why we're dragging Harry for his wand. I'm pretty sure Sirius and Peter aren't going to let anything happen to Harry either." James glanced to Hermione. "Don't worry, we're watching out for you too."

Sirius pat Harry on the head. "So how you feeling Pronglet?"

"Like I just drank half the potions in Britain. And I think I'm ready for an Ironman Triathlon."

"That's what I'm talking about. You know, I think next year I'm going to Hawaii and doing the Ironman. Should be easy with this mix." Harry shrugged. Having actually done it after losing a bet, he could attest that you needed more than just potions. He managed to cross the line minutes before midnight, barely making it in under seventeen hours. He was also in the best shape of his life at the time.

"Padfoot, don't forget to add me to your will before you try that."

In response, Sirius pinched Harry's cheek. "Cheeky bastard."

Lily grabbed Harry in one last hug. "Alright guys, enough. Just get it done, the sooner you have Harry and Hermione back under wards, the better."

"Don't worry mum. We'll be fine."

"Wish you and Remus could come Lils." James gave her a hug and kiss. "Alright guys, lets do it. I'll head in first. If it's clear, I'll send a Patronus to let you know. Peter, you side-along Harry, Sirius, you take Hermione. Lets do this."

James popped out, and within seconds, a stag Patronus appeared. "All Clear." The other four apparated out.

When Harry reappeared, he knew exactly where he was. There was an out of the way building in Diagon Alley that was actually owned by the non-magical government. In his world, it went widely unused until it was set up as a safe house and armoury for the military. All things considered, it was a terrible place to put a safe house for a group of people who hunt wizards, but it worked. Here, it looked to be much the same thing. Except the equipment was certainly different. There also looked to be three distinct groups, other than the group he showed up in.

There were several Auror's standing around, looking resigned. There looked to be about twenty soldiers standing around as well. That didn't last long. Moments after his arrival, one of them started yelling out orders to the group. Something that Harry was reluctant to admit that he missed. The third group were an unknown. Looking at them, he could tell they were a mix of both magical and non-magical. The man in charge of that small group walked up to James.

"James, good to see you again."

"Hamilton. Looks like you guys brought everything including kitchen sink for this. I'd like to introduce you to my son Harry." Harry stuck his hand out, getting Hamilton's in return.

"Good to meet your Harry. I've been working with your father on and off since the Voldemort war. Alexander Hamilton, MI5, Magic division." That caught Harry off guard. MI5-M didn't come into existence until the Statutes of Secrecy failed in his old world.

"And I take it this is MI5-M's lost daughter?" James nodded while Hermione scooted behind Harry. Hamilton's face tightened at her reaction. "Last time I saw her, I was bouncing her on my knee. How the hell did you guys let Dumbledore do this to her?"

"How in Merlin's name did you guys not find her in an orphanage?" James shot back.

"Probably the same way you let Dumbledore put her in an Orphanage." Hamilton let out a sad sigh. "The man can hide tracks like you wouldn't believe. We raided the orphanage, and found out a few things. She was completely off the books. Money for her support came in off the books, her name wasn't listed. As far as the system was concerned, she didn't exist. We started talking to inspectors, and found signs of mental tampering on them too. He was pretty thorough. And for all that, he didn't once check up on her. Thanks for taking her in. You know, her parents wanted you and Lily to take care of her if they died."

James just shrugged. "I wish Albus didn't shove his nose where it wasn't wanted. Bloody orphanage told her that her parents died in a car crash of all things! I spent the first couple days telling her about her parents. We didn't know the Granger's as well as you though." Gently, James pulled Hermione out from behind Harry.

"Hermione, say hello to Alexander Hamilton. He was one of your fathers best friends."

Hermione looked to James, who nodded. It didn't escape the groups notice that she looked at Harry next. Put on the spot, Harry just nodded too. If Harry didn't know why she was afraid, he'd think it was cute the way she was trying to work up her courage.

"You don't have to push her James. Plenty of years ahead of us, I'm sure I can tell her stories of her parents when she's ready."

Hermione didn't want to just leave it at that. He really was the closest link she had to her parents, and she was ashamed of letting her fear rule her. Barely, she managed to squeak out a reply. "Hello Mister Hamilton."

With a smile, he chuckled. "Please, call me Alex. Your parents would never let me live it down if you call me Mister Hamilton. If you'd like, I can drop by sometime and tell you stories about your parents."

Again, she looked at both James and Harry before answering. "I think I'd like that, Alex."

One of the Auror's coughed into his hand. "Are we ready to go?"

The three Marauders were quick to give him dirty looks as Alexander rolled his eyes, trying to not turn around and punch the Auror. "Yes, we're ready to go. Most our folks are in the alley already, keeping an eye open for trouble."

"We've got a dozen Auror's in the alley as well Mister Potter, undercover." A few of the MI5-M contingent snickered. There was a measure of mutual antagonism between the two police forces. The core of MI5-M was the very best that MI5 had to offer. The Cold War left a great deal of institutional experience to draw upon for counter-intelligence operations and domestic security. They felt that Auror's were rank amateurs at blending in. At least, when they weren't disillusioned or under invisibility cloaks. As far as MI5-M was concerned, that was just cheating. Auror's just hated muggles sticking their nose in wizarding business.

"Yes, I'm sure they're undercover. You'll never know how many MI5-M has unless the fecal matter hits the ventilation unit and we have to do a headcount afterwards. We have two squads of troops to pull our asses out the fire if things get bad enough for it. We've got a few other surprises if things get too nasty, but we're expecting a nice and quiet jaunt. Down to the shack, grab a pair of wands, and head back."

James nodded towards the Auror's. "Alright, since you guys are so insistent that MI5-M doesn't need to be here, go ahead and take point. Disillusionment's all around folks, just me and my friends taking my kids to get wands." As the Auror's and MI5-M agents began disappearing, he placed a glamour on Hermione. A powerful and subtle glamour. Had Harry not known that was Hermione, he would have swore he was looking at Iris.

"Lets head out folks." Reaching down, James grabbed Hermione's hand. Moments after the disillusioned Auror's left the building, The Marauders followed, and behind them the escort from MI5-M.

The walk itself was uneventful. Harry saw a few half-remembered faces. Quite a few of them in fact. The last couple of weeks before Hogwarts starts again, you couldn't help but to run into half the student population at the alley. It wasn't uncommon for children who just got their wand to show up alone, either, during peace at least. The way no one else seemed to care about the possible threat, it was apparent that no one else actually felt threatened. Possibly, the ministry hasn't even told anyone. If Harry had to guess, he'd think that was the most likely. You could count on the post Voldemort ministry to stick it's head in the sand like a pro. They could make an ostrich jealous.

The hardest part of the trip was not laughing at the escorts, or quite a few of the 'undercover' agents in place. Awake, and paying attention, the disillusioned wizards stuck out like sore thumbs to him. One of them was leaning against a building, under a disillusionment, and he went the extra mile. Invisibility cloak, anti-summoning charms, and sticking charms on wand and cloak. Either the other team brought in a heavy hitter, or someone pulled Mad Eye out of retirement. It takes a level of paranoia only taught by brutal experience to actually put an anti-summoning charm on yourself. Harry could feel the mans eyes settle on him, and did the only thing he could think of. He stuck out his tongue. His maturity was always questionable, but now he had an excuse.

Reaching Ollivander's, the Marauders entered, followed by Alex and another Auror. "Ah, Miss Granger. I was wondering when you would show up." Harry had to suppress his smirk as the adults were caught completely off guard. Ollivander somehow managed to appear between the door and the group. Harry still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Voldemort actually captured this man.

"How did you know it was her?" James looked offended that his glamour was seen through so effortlessly.

"Yew an-"

"Yes, I'm taking care of my wand, and it still works wonderfully. We'd like to get out of here as soon as possible. Both the kids need wands." It was Ollivanders turn to look offended at being cut off. He so enjoy freaking people out. Again, Harry had to suppress his chuckle. He learned, from the Patil Twins of all people, how Ollivander performed that neat little trick. Wand Crafters have to be able to understand a great many details of the wands they create. It wasn't that he remembers everyone's wand, but he can _read _their wands. That led to the strange reversal where he remembers people by their wand, instead of remembering wands by the people.

"Young Mister Potter, Miss Granger, please step to my desk." A pair a measuring tapes hopped off the desk and began taking measurements. "Which arm is your wand arm?"

"Both". "Right". Harry smiled for Hermione before leaning over and whispering. "I suggest practicing with both hands. Never know when you'll need to cast off-hand."

Ollivander returned with a pair of wands, handing one to Harry and one to Hermione. "Give it a wave." Hermione waved hers first, accidentally setting the desk on fire before Ollivander snatched her wand. Harry didn't do much better, accidentally shattering one of the tape measures. Several more wands, and several more disasters, Harry was starting to get worried. Would a wand from this world actually accept him?

"I wonder..." Pulling out the wand that Harry remembered, Ollivander passed it to Hermione. Irrationally, Harry felt betrayed. The way her face lit up as she held the wand, Harry knew. He wand chose Hermione.

"Holly and Phoenix Feather..." Harry nearly kicked himself for speaking.

"Correct Mister Potter. You may have a talent for Wand Crafting. Not just any phoenix feather however. The Phoenix that gave that feather only gave two more. I expect great things from you and this wand Miss Granger." Glancing to Hermione's scar, even though the glamour concealed it, Ollivander sadly looked at Hermione. "It's brother gave you that scar. It did great things as well. Terrible, but great."

Hermione lightly ran a finger across her scar, before nodding and backing away. She looked ready to cry, a feeling Harry knew all too well. Even getting a wand was a reminder that she lived where her parents died.

"Now, Mister Potter, you're proving most difficult. We will find you something yet. Maybe something in Elder?" Harry choked on that statement. As he started coughing, Ollivander laughed. Harry could hear Sirius and Peter snickering while James was also choking. "I never get tired of that. It's a shame the more difficult muggleborn students aren't familiar with the story."

Lightly humming to himself, Ollivander went to the backroom of his shop, before returning with a wand. It was missing the polished finish of the other wands, but with just a look, Harry knew it was a double of the wand Hermione just picked up. The same wood, length, and core. "The phoenix that gave the feather for Miss Granger's wand only gave two more. Nearly seventy years ago, Fawkes gave two feathers, to create two wands, one of the few sets of True Brother Wands that still exist. Only weeks ago, he donated another feather, and has pestered me endlessly to craft a wand just like the one Ms Granger just received."

Grabbing the unfinished wand, Harry could feel the power surging through it. The wood, Holly just like his first, and the Phoenix Feather filled his sense of magic. He could taste the magic coming from the wand. It was no Elder Wand, but it was a perfect match. The by-product of a core donated specifically to be used for Harry Potter's wand. _I bet this is what Fleur felt when she picked up her wand the first time..._

"Most curious Mister Potter. Most Curious indeed. You wouldn't happen to know why a Phoenix would give a feather for your wand, would you?" Harry shifted uncomfortably and shook his head as the adults looked quite interested.

James frowned at Harry. That wasn't normal. It was normal for the occasional family that was close to a magical creature (or in the case of Veela's, related to them) to have wand cores donated for a wand. It was unheard of for a wand core to be donated to a family by a phoenix no one in the family ever met. Wand Lore wasn't his strongest subject, but almost everyone knows the basic. The wand chooses you, not the other way around. You can win a wand in combat. After a couple years in Hogwarts, even muggleborns could use magic well enough to use almost any wand, but never nearly as well as you could use _your_ wand. A wand with a core freely given to be made into _your_ wand is a powerful tool. You would never find a wand as compatible, unless you actually believed in the Elder Wand. So despite his reservations, it wasn't like not accepting the wand was an option.

James barely dropped the gold on the table before Peter noticed something wrong outside the shop. "Hey, James, something funny is going on at Fortescue's." Several Hogwarts age students showed up a while ago, while Harry and Hermione were still fitting for wands. The minister refused to release any information about what's been happening the past few weeks, so it wasn't unexpected to see students showing up to enjoy their last days of summer. What made it unusual was that Susan Bones was there. The way Amelia doted on her, there wasn't an Auror that wouldn't recognize her, or her friend Hannah. They were practically attached at the hip. Joining them were the Patil twins, daughters of a fairly successful importer, and two other girls Peter didn't recognize. Amelia _knew_ what was happening today, and wouldn't let her niece, the only other Bones to survive the last war, show up in Diagon Alley.

James and Sirius stepped to the window and looked on as an undercover Auror took off his invisibility cloak and approached the group, his partner following under his own cloak. "Hey, that's the two oldest Greengrass daughters, isn't it? Wait, what in Merlin's name is Susan doing there?" It took only moments for the group to put together what was going on. Hermione arrived at the conclusion first, but Harry was the first to yell it out.

"Dad! It's a trap!"

Most of Diagon Alley was covered with fairly weak anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards. The ones on shops themselves were of generally good quality otherwise theft would be impossible to deter. The ones covering the majority of the alley itself were weak enough that an average witch or wizard could break through them with effort and intent. They were the magical equivalent of "No Parking" signs. During any sort of emergency, people were expected to power right through them, but during day to day activity, it was actually a minor offense to break through them. It's generally a matter of public safety to not apparate into busy area's outside of designated zones.

The wards that just went up moment after Harry yelled the warning weren't the standard variety. It was the sort of anti-apparation ward that you would call in a team of curse breakers to take down. It was also tied to a wardstone, which meant Harry couldn't exploit the same cheap trick that allowed him to seize the ward a few weeks ago. Oh, Harry had no doubt that he could have pulled the ward down in ten to fifteen minutes, except it was unlikely he'd had ten to fifteen minutes to pick at it without someone trying to kill him.

The unlucky Auror that was checking on Susan never had a chance. Neither did his partner, nor the MI5-M agent that went unnoticed as a customer of Fortescue's. As soon as the Auror got the group of young witches, the Wards went up and he took his eyes off the girls. Susan pulled her wand, and hit the Auror in the stomach at point blank with the killing curse. She collapsed nearly as quickly as the man she killed, the magical draw of the spell nearly killing her. Hannah put one into the MI5-M agent, before she collapsed as well. Daphne turned to the one under his cloak still, but that Auror got off a curse first.

Astoria, without a wand and too magically weak to even cast the spell had she had one, did what she was there for and put herself between the curse and her sister, going down under a cutting curse before Daphne killed her attacker, collapsing herself. The imperious curse holding Astoria broke from the pain of the cutting curse.

One of the Patil twins fired off a killing curse at what Harry suspected was Mad-Eye Moody, hitting nothing but wall, while the second one fell to a stunner from him. In the span of three seconds, two Auror's were dead, one MI5-M agent was dead, four witches were collapsed, possibly near death, from magical exhaustion, one was stunned, and the youngest lay bleeding, screaming loud enough to be heard over the panicking crowd.

Before the bodies finished hitting the ground, Alex had already tackled Hermione, wands were out, and every Auror but Moody revealed themselves. It wasn't long before wizards and witches from the crowd quickly turned on the Auror's. These ones weren't people under the imperious, but the actual attackers. The fight turned bloody quite quickly. The killing curse was nearly impossible to chain-cast. Even Voldemort didn't have the raw power required to chain cast the curse, though he could cast it as part of a chain. Very very few people could do so.

The attackers instead relied on a more traditional, if quite powerful, selection of spells. Flame cutters, regular cutters, bone shatterers (The bone breakers bigger, meaner cousin), piercing curses, plain fire, and quite a few other curses meant to kill. Before the Auror's were completely overwhelmed by the vicious assault, several members of the crowd turned on the attackers. MI5-M was quite well aware that bullets were nearly useless against a witch or wizard that was expecting them, and planned accordingly. One of the members of the crowd stopped in his tracks, rotated and dropped to a knee, handgun in hand. Three shots later, he was lining up a second target. A rifle report was heard from down the alley and another wizard went down, half his head missing. The group quickly apparated to a new area, the Auror's and MI5-M being stuck where they were, unable to move through the ward.

Harry didn't get to see much more before Sirius dragged him out the back, with Alex dragging Hermione right next to him. They were hardly out the door when someone took a shot at them. Alex went down with a reducto to the chest before Sirius dropped the attacker with his own reducto.

"Alex!"

"Fuck! I think that broke some ribs! Damn armour works at least..." Rolling over, Alex started coughing up blood. "Go! I can't keep up."

Now it was Harry's turn to dive tackle Hermione as another wizard started throwing curses. The curse that barely missed them blew out a chunk of the wall behind them, taking down Peter and James in a hail of shrapnel. Judging from the noises they were making, they weren't happy about it, but they weren't dying either. It didn't look like James was going to be walking anywhere anytime soon though, judging from the angle his leg was sitting at. Peter took almost no time to come back to his feet though.

"Harry! Take her and hide! Me and Sirius will cover you!" Another wizard went down, the crack of a supersonic round ringing in his ears, while Peter and Sirius took down another. Pulling Hermione back to her feet, he pulled her along, back into the shop. "Dad! You alright?"

James had dragged himself so he was sitting against a wall, looking a bit glassy eyed. In response to Harry, he waved him off, pointing towards the front door. "Go Harry! The courtyard is cleared! Get out of here you two!" Another chunk of the back wall blew out, showering the group with debris. James fired off a few curses of his own out the new hole.

"Don't you die on me dad! If you die..." _again.._ "..I won't forgive you." James nodded to his son.

"Now take her and RUN Harry! Get out of here!"

Harry and Hermione dashed out the front door, passing both Auror's and MI5-M agents heading to the current battle. They made it to Fortescue's before Harry started swearing. The glassy eyed look wasn't from the explosion..."It's a trap, dad was confounded!"

With a series of pops, the group that fled the courtyard returned, reinforced. The timing was poor, leaving Harry and Hermione with cover. With a grunt of effort, Harry flipped over a table, just in time for it to stop a cutting curse. As Hermione dropped to the ground, covering her head, Harry took a moment to add a few extra charms to the table to improve it's usefulness as cover. He was most certainly not above cheating, and using a few protection charms that haven't been crafted yet.

The fighting in the courtyard resumed in earnest, leaving them too busy to just try and blow the table apart. Taking stock of his situation, Harry shook his head. Even now his 'saving people' thing was about to get him into trouble. "Hermione! Grab check the girls and see if they're alive. I'll grab the little one and see if I can help her." Getting a frightened nod in return, Harry vaulted over the table. Both Daphne and Astoria were caught on the wrong end of his makeshift barricade. Grabbing Daphne first, he dragged her to the table, cursing his weak body before rolling her over the top with a grunt and quite glad that everyone seemed to busy to attack him. Catching up to Astoria, Harry frowned. She laid curled into a ball, crying. Judging from the amount of blood she already lost, she was unlikely to live much longer without medical help, and there wasn't a chance in hell he could help her out here in the open before someone took a potshot at him.

"Sorry, but this is going to hurt you a lot more than me." At least she was smaller than her sister. Grabbing her, Harry actually managed to pick her up, despite her pained screams. "I got you, you'll be alright." It didn't sound particularly comforting to his own ears, but to someone bleeding out, it could make all the difference between panic and blind panic. While running back behind the table, he felt a spell wash over his back, but his dragonhide stopped it. Barely managing to not fall over from the impact, he managed to get her back behind cover before someone else in this free for all could try and kill him. Really, who the hell aim's at an eleven year old kid carrying a nine year old kid in the middle of a battle?

"Harry! She won't wake up!" Hermione already had the other five girls leaning against the back of the table. One of the twins was still out cold, but the other four just looked like shit. Heavy sweating and ragged breathing, they all showed signs of exhaustion. It was unlikely they'd be able to even use magic for a few days.

"Don't worry, she'll be unconscious for a while. She was stunned." Hermione's mouth opened as if to say 'Oh'. He couldn't suppress his smile, seeing that expression on her face again. Pointing her wand at the unconscious girl, she tried her first bit of magic. She did, after all, have a few weeks to herself in Grimmauld Place, with it's Library. "Hermione?"

"Hush. I'm trying to remember..." With a flick, she yelled out "ENERVATE!" To everyone's surprise, the spell was actually cast, though not powerfully enough. As she kept trying, Harry put Astoria down, and began ripping open her shirt. The wound on her reminded him a little too much of what Happened in the Ministry to Hermione. It went nearly from hip to shoulder, thankfully too weak to cause significant internal damage. It was nothing more than a panicked snap shot, otherwise she would have already died.

"ASTORIA!" Daphne cried out as soon as she noticed her sister, and Harry ripping her shirt off. "DON'T TOUCH HER!"

"SHUT UP!" Daphne looked like she wanted to raise more objections, but was having too much trouble getting her breathing under control to yell again, let alone physically stop him. "I have to stop the bleeding, or she's going to die."

Inspecting the wound, Harry started with sealing up her intestines. Healing was truly one of the most difficult applications of magic. Sure, a simple Episky could heal most minor wounds, but that was first aid. It was the modern medical equivalent of a band-aid. When it came to fixing damaged bones, wounded organs, ruptured intestines, severed arteries, and other things more complex than a simple cut or bruise, it took a great deal more knowledge. More than Harry had, if he was honest. His brand of magical healing wasn't the same that a Healer used though. It was a gross over-simplification that would get him sued if he practiced it in a hospital, but it would keep most victims alive long enough to get to a hospital. Any healer worth a damn would tear the girl back open and do the job right, but she'd live to suffer that. Moving on, he ignored the damage to her bones, and hoped nothing else in her got nicked at he sealed up her gash running across her.

"There, hopefully she'll live." Harry's breath was a little labored from the effort. Looking back at the group, he noticed he had six witches staring at him, five of them crying. Whether it was because they were in a warzone, or because they were under the imperious curse earlier, he didn't know. Hermione finally cast the enervate well enough to get the other twin up. Apparently her love of learning was more nature than nurture.

Pulling off his shirt, he helped Astoria get into it. The hardest part proved to be prying the crying girl off him, before placing her next to her sister who wasted no time in pulling Astoria into a hug.

"Thank you, Harry."

"Later, we don't have time. You can thank me later if we live long enough to get to Hogwarts. I accept payment in the form of Butterbeer or Firewhiskey."

"Whats going on Harry!?"

"No worries, they're trying to get me and Hermione, well, Hermione. MI5-M and the Auror's are trying to keep that from happening, but are getting their asses kicked. You six are going to stay here under cover. It'll hold off anything short of Fiend Fyre. I can _NOT _stress this enough, get the girl to a healer as soon as you can. I didn't heal her, I kept her from dying in the next five minutes."

"No worries!? How are we supposed to get my sister to a healer!?"

Harry pointed to Fortescue's. "Tell you what, I make a distraction, and you use their floo. Take Hermione with yo-" Harry was cut off when Hermione smacked him.

"No! If I go with them, they'll follow us. I'm not letting you stay her alone Harry!"

"I don't know if we have a choice there Hermione. It looks like we're losing, and it's only a matter of time until they can walk up and grab us. Or, more likely, kill me and grab you." Considering the crack of supersonic rounds ended, it was likely that their sniper support was already killed. Unsurprising when the enemy had unparalleled mobility. The soldiers back at the staging area would have shown up by now if they could. MI5-M got in a few good hits apparently, but prepared wizards were nigh unstoppable by non-magicals armed with small arms. Auror's seemed to have fallen back to more defensible positions, leaving a great deal of the courtyard as a no-mans land of crossfire. Judging from the volume of fire, they were running out of combat capable Auror's.

"I don't care Harry, you take the girls and run!" Harry shook his head. Hermione _always_ wanted to protect him. For as much as this wasn't _his_ Hermione, she sure acted the part. Either that or she was trying to pull a Harry and wanting to sacrifice herself because she felt her life was worthless. Either way, it was beyond pointless to tell her to run, and forcing the issue would probably end worse tha keeping her around.

"Fine, don't run. I'm not going to waste my time arguing, but I'm letting it be known that it's a bad idea. I'll make a distraction, you six run. Hermione, when it's clear, we're going the opposite direction into the glorified pet shop. I don't suppose you picked up any other spells than ennervate while I've been unconcious?"

Hermione nodded her head.

"Think you could cast any on your first try?" Hermione shook her head. "And...you're going to try anyways, aren't you?" Another nod. "Just don't stand in the open like an idiot when you try." Yet another nod. "Hermione, I'll ask one more time. Escape with the others." At least she mixed it up by scowling while shaking her head. "Alright, then don't fall behind. Once I give the signal, keep up with me."

Poking his head over the table, Harry was wishing he hadn't spent so much time retired. Without the Elder Wand or copious magical reserves, this was going to be hard. Taking a quick count, he ducked back under the table in time for a bone-breaker to pass through where his head was. He turned to the girls getting ready to make a run for it.

"I got good news, and I got bad news. The bad news is, the bad guys are winning. The good news is, you can get some free ice cream on your way out. Make a run for it when you hear a really loud bang and the sky goes white. Wish me luck!" With that, Harry vaulted over the table, wand in hand. With a flick of his wand, he sent the first spell thrown at him back to sender. It was one of the few skills he developed that truly gave him an edge in combat. Harry followed it up with a circle motion before a vicious thrust. "_luminosus Sanus!" _The end of Harry's wand exploded in blinding white light, and emitted a deafening bang. It was the magical equivalent of a flash-bang.

"Go! RUN!" Turning his head aside, he saw the girls make their run for Fortescue's, one of the Patil twins helping Daphne carry Astoria. He looked back too late to stop the hex blind fired at him. Staggering back from the impact on his Dragon-hide armour, Harry nearly fell before Hermione caught him, but he could feel something lodged into his chest. Regaining his balance, he returned the next hex before Hermione tugged him towards the Menagerie and they both broke out into a dead run.

One of the attackers tried to cut them off, apparating in front of the two. A quick thrust of his wand, and Harry broke the apparation before it completed. It didn't cause a splinch as much as it removed the magical links between his disjointed body parts. The end result was that nearly half the man would never be found, forever shunted into whatever it is that wizards travel through during apparation. The other half wouldn't have been out of place in a horror movie set. Thankfully they were past him before Hermione could notice just what Harry did to the man. She had enough nightmares of her own to deal with.

Harry was breathing hard and ragged by the time he got to the Menagerie, winded from both the hit he took and his flash-bang distraction. He didn't make it five steps in before Hermione pushed him into the wall. "Stop Harry! You're killing yourself!" Harry looked at his chest. An small spear of ice was sticking out of it. Without the Dragon-hide, he would probably have died. Already, it melted enough that it was almost dislodged. "Can you heal it Harry? Like you did for the little girl?" Hermione had a panicked look over her face.

Harry shook his head. It was too much for what little magic he had left to heal. "Don't worry, it isn't deep. Get something to wrap it with, I'll watch the door. " Biting her lip, Hermione nodded to herself before pulling off her shirt. Less than gently, she pulled the small ice spear out of his chest before wrapping her shirt around him, tying a knot over the wound. It wasn't the neatest battlefield dressing, but it would work.

Harry was looking at the rafters, trying to avoid looking at Hermione in her skin-tight Dragon-hide. At least she was only eleven, and malnourished, so she wasn't showing off any sort of curves, but she was still eleven. "You know, there's probably a bunch of stuff you could have used in here other than your shirt..." That was when Harry saw the fireball appear in the rafters, and it quickly turned into a bird. "...and there's a phoenix in here. Why is there a phoenix in here? Fawkes...?"

The phoenix just stared at him. Harry found it unnerving to be under the phoenix's gaze. As if it was judging him, weighing him. With a disappointed sound, Fawkes broke his stare and looked towards the entrance. Harry and Hermione both followed his gaze.

"They're in the shop! Don't kill the girl, but I want the boys head! I'm going to mail it back to his family!" Boots could be heard hitting the pavement before a body thudded to the ground outside the door, followed by swearing. Someone was watching their back.

Pushing himself off the wall, Harry started opening and unlocking every cage he could. Seeing what he was doing, Hermione started doing it to, before back away when a snake spoke to her. _"thankss."_

Harry turned back to the snake. _"Protect her."_

"_Yess sspeaker." _

"Harry! The snake just spoke! It called you a speaker!"

"Don't worry, we can both speak to snakes. They like people that can speak with them, and listen to us. Let him help protect you." Reaching into another cage, Harry pulled out another snake. It looked poisonous and had fangs, beyond that, he had no idea what it was, but it sounded Australian to him. Placing it on the ground, it moved towards the entrance, a few more followed it. By this time, a large assortment of animals were moving around the shop. A half-remembered snowy owl took to the rafters, but seemed pretty content to ignore Harry. He was fairly sure one of the kneazles running around was Crookshanks, but they all looked equally ugly to him. He couldn't tell which one was supposed to be the ugly one.

"Hermione? Which of these kneazles is uglier?"

"Are you really asking that right _now_ Harry? And they're all beautiful!" Hermione bent down and picked up a kitten. "Ignore that mean _boy_." Somehow, she made it sound like a curse word. "You're not ugly at all, you're beautiful!" She quickly glanced at the tag on the kitten. "And don't let anyone tell you otherwise Crookshanks!" The kitten clawed up to her shoulder.

"Well, looks like he adopted you Hermione. I hope you're ready to care for a kitten."

"Honestly Harry, we have bigger problems! Why are we releasing all the animals?"

A scream came from the door as a cobra and a few other snakes dog-piled, or more accurately, snake-piled the next man in the door. The second man in the door fell to a stunner, and the snakes finished him off.

"That's why."

"Oh. But, we're supposed to be protected from venom because of magic!"

"Nothing in here was venomous enough to kill a wizard before they got to St. Mungos, even if they stopped and talked to their neighbor first. In this case however, quantity made up for quality. That and the snake with an Australian accent was probably more venomous than the rest combined. Everything is deadlier in Australia. Magic makes us more resistant to non-magical poisons and venoms, not immune. Now go! Into the back room!"

Grabbing Hermione, Harry tried to drag her into the back, but it quickly turned into her dragging him while the people outside started burning a hole into the front of the shop. The small hole in his chest was slowing him down too much. They barely opened the door to the back before a stunner to the chest blew Hermione off her feet. That was followed up with a flame cutter to Harry's chest.

"Bloody kids still alive! He's got Dragon-hide! I told you I hit him with that ice spear!"

"Fine, I owe you a whiskey, finish the kid and I'll portkey the girl." He leaned out the way as Hermione tried casting a stunner at him, crawling back as quickly as she could. "Really? You're just making it worse on yourself. You have no idea what we're going to do you girl. You might be a bit young, but I'm sure after a few shots of firewhiskey, I won't care."

Crookshanks launched himself at the man approaching Hermione. It might have mattered if he weighed more than a pound. As it was, he was swatted aside effortlessly. Backing into the corner, Hermione curled her knees to her chest, crying, before trying to cast again. This time, her stunner actually hit the man, but it was cast so poorly it barely fazed him. Behind him, he heard the meaty sound of someone being blown apart. Poor kids never had a chance.

"If that's the best you can do, then it looks like we're gonna have a new fuck toy around the house. You only need to be alive to be used as a bargaining piece. Filthy mudblood." Before he could reach Hermione, several kneazels attacked him, keeping him away from her. A flick of his wand sent a wave a force throwing a few kneazels around. "You're going to pay for that! Mudbl-" Hermione screamed again as blood, chunks of bone, and brain matter scattered across the room.

"Hermione!" Harry was limping towards her, blood flowing freely from the diagonal cut across the chest of his armour. "It's alright! I'm here!" Another spell blew Harry off his feet, again, sending him crashing into a wall. Another man was walking through the front of the store, where the wall used to be before it was burned out. Two more followed behind him.

"Bravo, Mister Potter. Bravo. If all went well, you should be the man of your house by now. Of course, your father has a certain reputation for not dying when he's supposed to. A trait you seem to have picked up. Once we kill your godfather, the wards around his home will fall, and we can take care of your mudblood mother. Maybe we'll even keep her alive, though I doubt she would appreciate the favor."

Harry managed to drag himself to a sitting position. The way his right arm was twisted, he was pretty sure he wasn't casting with it anymore, and he doubted he could get the wand into his left hand before getting killed.

"I take it you're the one who confounded my father? I didn't even notice until it was too late." Harry spit some blood off to the side. "I'm impressed. You couldn't have been close when you did that, or you would have just killed me and made off with Hermione."

"You really aren't a normal eleven year old. Tell me, how did you kill a man in mid-apparation? Or get a bunch of snakes to kill my men as they entered? Or perhaps your little light show?"

"Get bent you wanker. Your mother was a French slag and your Father was a whore. And is that a ward stone in your neck? You know you aren't supposed to wear portable ward stones, right?"

"That didn't even make sense. Goodbye Potter, we'll take good care of the girl for you. _Reducto!_" Hermione threw herself in front of the curse, taking a hit across her armoured stomach that threw her off to the side. By the time he had another clear shot at Harry, he was already on his feet, wand in his off-hand.

Coldly, Harry spoke. "That was your last mistake." With that, the time for words was over. One of the men cast a killing curse at him. With a vicious upward stroke, Harry channeled a trickle of magic into his wand and deflected it towards the ceiling. Fawkes squawked as the beam he was sitting on cracked from the curse. Another flame cutter, and Harry danced around it. Flaming chunks of wood were banished at him, and Harry dumped most of his magic into deflecting the salvo. The next two curses he returned, clipping one of the attackers with his own cutter but missing the second with the reducto.

Already, the pain, blood loss, and magical exhaustion were taking their toll on his body. The cocktail of potions that sustained him even through the damage was wearing off quickly as well. He couldn't even see straight anymore. No longer content to just defend offensively, he put what little he had left into a spell "_An__ima Praeuro_". A whip of black fire erupted from his wand. He had no idea how he was going to explain his way out of this, but the other option was to die and leave Hermione to an unthinkable fate.

Ignoring the next cutter and letting it hit his armour, Harry lashed out with the whip, his target too slow to escape. The first enemy fell, a lash of black flame across his chest. His screams didn't last long before his lungs incinerated. Within ten seconds, there wouldn't be anything left but ash. Unlike the other two, Harry didn't stop to watch. The second went down, his right leg ripped off by the black flame. His death would take far longer, but no one could stop that spell from consuming them. Staggering forward, Harry swung a third time, hitting a conjured wall instead. Swearing, he tore through it before swinging again.

Harry frowned as nothing happened, before realizing why. His left arm hung uselessly as another ice spear was stuck into the shoulder. Dully, he noted he had a few more sticking out of his body. With a groan, he collapsed onto his back.

"You're too dangerous to leave alive. What in Merlin's name is wrong with your father, teaching you such a spell?"

Without warning, the wards shattered. The leader of the group went down as the wardstone he was carrying on his necklace exploded around his throat. Apparating into the store was a middle aged woman, wand at the ready. After a few moments of feeling out the local magic, she put out the fires in the front of the store with a bare flick of her wand before looking at the man she accidentally killed.

"You Brits are freaking insane. Portable wardstones explode when the ward breaks, and he wore it around his throat!"

Turning back towards the kids, she gasped at their condition. Hermione was twitching as a kneazle kitten was licking her fingers. A nasty bump was on her head, probably from being flung into a wall. She'd be alright. The boy however, was a different story. Judging from the blood leaking out of his shoulder, he lost an artery. Feebly, he was still struggling to raise his wand.

"Shit! I can't fix this!" A squawk from above grabbed her attention, and she noticed the phoenix.

"Fawkes?" A nod. She looked a the boy and back up to him. "If you're here, he's _your_ mess, isn't he? You going to clean up after yourself?" Another nod. "Damn overgrown turkey! Then get your ass down here!" With a wave, she vanished all the ice spears. Another wave, and Harry's muscles tightened around his wounds, slowing the blood loss. Fawkes floated down with a flap of his wings, and began dropping tears into Harry's wounds while the woman started working on bringing Hermione around.

"So how you been Fawkes? You still not talking to the old man?" A squawk answered her. "Yea, can't say I'm surprised. His hearts in the right place, but he's a bit of a jerk. Damn, the Brits know how to make a hell of a mess." Another Squawk. "I am NOT drunk! Just tipsy. _Ennervate._"

She smiled before reaching a hand out towards Hermione. "Hey, welcome back to the waking world kiddo. Looks like you and your boyfriend whooped some ass! Don't worry, Fawkes here is taking care of him."

Hermione took a confused look around as she was helped up. "What happened...?"

"El stupid here wore a portable wardstone." She pointed to the dead man with a mangled throat. "Like any portable wardstone, it exploded when someone, namely me, overcame the ward with brute force. Before that, I haven't a clue, but someone waxed a bunch of people."

"Harry! Where's Harry! They're going to kill him!"

"Easy now. As I said, Fawkes is taking care of your boy. He'll live, but he looks like shit. He might want to wear a shirt when he goes to the beach though unless our feather-brained friend thinks he can prevent scarring. How's it going over there Fawkes?"

"I haven't bled to death yet. Thanks Fawkes." Harry reached up and stroked the phoenix a few times with his good hand, though only the most generous assessment would call it 'good'.

"Morgana's saggy tits! You're still conscious!? Bloody hell kid, are you the bludger magnet on your quidditch team? You know what, no, I don't want to know. So who are you two kids, and why was someone trying to kill you both?"

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

"Really? Michelle Fuller. Yes, _The_ Michelle Fuller, yes I'm much older than I look." Harry looked at her like she was crazy, because she was supposed to be dead. Hermione looked at her in awe.

"But...you fought Grindelwald! You're the greatest witch of the Nineteenth and Twentieth century!"

"Glad to be appreciated Hermione. Who knows, one day you may be as good as me."

"So that magic I feel is a glamour?" Harry interrupted.

"No. I'm just really young for my age."

"You're older than Dumbledore."

"Irrelevant. I'm thirty. You can't prove otherwise."

"Glamour it is."

"Spoil sport. Can you make it back to Ollivander's? I think I need to help wrap up the fighting on the other end of the alley."

"I think so, I just need a minute. Is Fawkes with you?" With that, Fawkes flamed out of the room while the Kneazel kitten climbed on Hermione's shoulder.

"Nah, bloody bird is too stubborn. He goes where he wants, when he wants. Try not to get ambushed again. Oh, yea, _Ennervate._" Immediately Harry energetic.

"Awesome huh? Found out if you brutally overpower the spell, it's like giving someone a dose of adrenaline. You should be good for about five minutes. Bye!" Soundlessly, the woman apparated out.

With Hermione's help, Harry managed to get to his feet for the trip back to Ollivander's shop. He wasn't dying anymore, but his arm was still broken and he was pretty exhausted. Supporting each others weight, they made there way.

"Hermione, don't let me do anything this stupid again."

"Thank you Harry. For not leaving me. For saving me." She tightened her grip around him.

"Was she drunk? I could swear I smelt firewhiskey on her."

"She smelt like your father and his friends do."

They made the rest of the trip in uncomfortable silence until they got into the store.

"Hey pup." Hermione gasped as they walked into Ollivander's. It was being set up as a casualty collection point, and people were in triage. Of the Marauders, only Sirius was still standing, and that was only because Moody was supporting him. His left arm hung lifeless, and his front was covered in blood from a cutting curse that he couldn't fully block. Peter and James were both sitting down leaning against a counter, unconscious. Harry let out a breath in relief when he noted they were in the non-critical pile. Alex was in the critical, but savable pile.

"I'm glad you ran off pup. It got nasty over here. How was it on your end?" Finally getting a good look at his Godson, Sirius's eyes popped open. "What the hell happened!? You're covered in blood! You're mum's gonna kill us..."

Harry shook his head before sorting himself and Hermione into the non-critical pile and taking seats next to the Marauders. "Sirius, I don't think I like shopping."

**A/N: Hopefully I'll update within a reasonable time. I know, I suck at this updating on time thing. Hope you enjoyed the story, and let me know if you notice any problems and I'll try to get them fixed.**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

_February 17th, 1999_

Harry had to admit, he was _bored_. He was supposed to prove to his team that he was tough enough to justify having a team of special forces attached to him, personally. That seemed to involved a great deal of physical exercise. If he was going to be a part of a team, he had to train with the team. And that's what lead to him standing next to Luna in a bloody blizzard, in a T-shirt, in upstate New York. If they were going to show off by doing a thousand thousand push-ups, or however many they did, he was going to show off by not caring about the blizzard. The eighteen troops with him were bundled up tight in their winter gear, while Luna went a step further. She was wearing a two piece bathing suit, and not even shoes. A subtle 'fuck you' to the troops if he ever saw one. Showing off that she doesn't care about the blizzard, showing off her body when she's too young for them touch, and making people cringe when they see her back.

"You're fucking crazy Potter, you know that, right?" Sergeant Hernandez, the squad sergeant of his squad asked him. It looked like Luna was having the same conversation with her's as well.

"You got a problem with that?"

"Nah. We _like_ your kind of crazy."

"So whats the plan anyways?"

"Was hoping you'd tell me. This is our first time fighting wizards."

Harry shrugged. "If it helps any, it's probably their first time fighting soldiers."

"I'm sure that will go real nice on my head stone"

"I've put enough people in the ground, lets try to avoid that one. I have _no idea_ how to fight wizards with guns. You've seen me and Luna go at it in practice, you have an idea how fight a group can that do 'freaky shit' as Jenkins liked to call it? Use cover I guess? That seems to catch a lot of wizards off guard." The sergeant just rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't like the kid. He could tell at a look that the poor bastard had seen some shit. After reading he kid's file, he just wanted to hug the poor bastard. But...he was probably the shittiest soldier he ever saw. Even worse, he was isolated from the chain of command, for the time being. Soldiers don't know how to order wizards to do something effective, and wizards don't know how to order soldiers. The chain of command hasn't figured out if he's going to be in charge, or be a grunt. It was, as far as he was concerned, a fucking nightmare. One that they were going to war game endlessly until they could create some sort of doctrine, and create an effective chain of command.

So far, it was a simple set up. Two squads, each with an attached wizard. A real fucking wizard. His squad, squad Potter, was designated first squad. That meant, as squad sergeant, he was the guy in charge on the military side of the house, and Potter was in charge in the wizard side of the house. Squad Luna's squad sergeant gets command if he goes down. If it weren't for the fact that it was just Luna, she would get the lead of the wizard side of the house if Harry went down. Maybe if they ever get a third and fourth squad, there would be some sort actual chain of command for the wizard side, but the brass was having trouble recruiting the vets from that last wizarding war, or any other sort of trained wizard.

"Well, we got a month straight of war games against the local wizarding cops. I'm sure we'll figure something out by then. Are you sure you can't keep them from teleporting all over the field?"

"No, I still can't make anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards. Just like I couldn't yesterday. Or the day before." Harry rolled his eyes. Learning was certainly on his to-do list, but so was almost everything else.

"So, you don't have any suggestions on how to do this?"

"Best idea I had was to slip you in under disillusionment charms, but with all this snow, you'll stand out like a sore thumb to wizards. How about if we try..."

xxxxx

_February 18th, 1999_

"Ok Potter, are you _absolutely sure_ you can't stop these people from teleporting?"

"Yes. I'm _absolutely sure _I can't stop these people from teleporting.

"Fine dammit. This time, we'll take the lead and you cover us!"

xxxxx

_February 28th, 1999_

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm tired of dying." Both Harry's Squad and Luna's squad were standing around, while both squad Sergeants were talking with Harry and Luna. The only bright side so far was that it stopped snowing, and was instead raining.

"That's why we're doing this. So when it matters, we don't die."

"At least when we inevitably die fighting some wizard somewhere, we know Harry and Luna will get the job done. They've been whooping some ass."

"Either that or American Wizards suck. How the hell did we win the revolutionary war if Jolly ol' England has us beat this bad? Luna isn't even legal yet and she had the local's on the run. And fucking Potter, he's god damn spider man! I'm telling you, his reflex's aren't human!"

"Shit, at least your wizard is almost sane. Very angry and pissed off most the time, but sane. I think our Witch is broken. She keeps going on about mythical creatures."

"You sure they're mythical? Talking to Harry, he nearly got killed at eleven by something that was killing unicorns for their blood. Unicorns!"

"Yea, I'm sure man. I even asked the local wizards about these things. They looked at me like I was stupid. I don't think even wizards would name something a Nargle. I even asked Harry, he just shook his head and said to play along."

Harry, Luna, and the two squad sergeants came finished their little meeting and rejoined the group. "Alright guys, I think we're going to take a page from Squad Luna's book. It seems to be the only thing that didn't end in two dead squads and me and Luna trying to fight off the entire American DMLE on our own. I'm walking in, breaking shields, and you're shooting the ever living shit out of anyone whose shield is down."

"Potter, your briefing skills leave a bit to be desired."

"Yes, well, your little sandbox and toy soldier pieces aren't very useful when our enemy apparates at will. You can't clear a building, because someone else can pop in at will. Trying to look at this from a military perspective is a fucking Nightmare."

"So assault the same point we assaulted yesterday?"

"Why not. Until we find a way of fighting together effectively, we're just wasting our time coming up with new plans of where to go in from. So once again, we enter from the east, Squad Luna enter's from the south. We link up and take out everyone we run across that isn't us. Squad Luna is running the same plan."

xxxxx

_March 5th, 1999_

Jenkins couldn't believe it. He was still awake. Seventeen soldiers, and Luna were knocked out. Harry even managed to find a way to break his arm by flying through a wall, but fifteen out of fifteen wizards were either unconcious or had enough paint rounds on them to qualify as a 'kill'. They finally fucking won!

"YES! EAT IT MOTHER FUCKERS!" The wizards that were only shot were rolling their eyes. They were getting just as tired of doing this as the poor muggles they've been manhandling the past few weeks. "WHO'S THE MAN! MICHEAL JENKIN'S IS THE FUCKING MAN! YEA!"

"Good job on living." Harry also rolled his eyes before sending up sparks. He was afraid of how much this support was costing, but the American Ministry even had two healers on station. For most definitely not the first time, Harry was glad. It turns out that if you don't have Lockhart healing your broken bones, it only takes a good five minutes to be good as new.

xxxxx

_March 17th, 1999_

Harry had to admit. These guys were good. They just finished the last day of war games. For the time at least. The guy running the opposing force however, was a dick. Thirty wizards. The American Ministry wanted to make a statement the last day. If Harry had to guess, it was because the last week straight, the Ministry was getting it's ass kicked.

Harry, Luna, and eighteen muggles. Against thirty wizards. That was bad enough, until the anti-apparation wards went up, keyed specifically against Harry and Luna. And twenty more apparated in. The best that the American Ministry could get their hands on too. It went from hard won victory, to a crushing defeat in minutes. Even then, nearly half the American wizards were down before they finally overwhelmed them with sheer numbers.

The two squads took the reversal in stride. They didn't panic, they didn't break. They did their job and took as many wizards with them as they could. Harry suspected that if they were fighting to the death, there'd be more dead wizards. He'd been to all the ranges enough to respect muggle weapons. They lacked the versatility of magic, but their singular purpose made them all the more effective at killing. An effectiveness that didn't exist with the paint rounds.

"Merlin, it really is Harry Potter! My brother is going to be so jealous! I knocked out Harry Potter!"

Jenkins was the first to respond to him. "Yea tough guy, it only took twenty of you shooting at him to actually take him down."

"Doesn't matter, I got Potter. It ain't cheating if you win."

"You know, I can respect that. But it doesn't change the fact that you threw fifty wizards at us."

"Still counts."

"Whatever. Yo, Potter! How long do you think it will take you to learn to keep these assholes from teleporting around"

"Two weeks."

"You sound confident in that answer."

"I better be, someone complained to someone who could make things happen, so me and Luna are spending the next two weeks learning wards. Unlike these guys who are here to fight to the last man, a real witch or wizard would flee if I can't stop them. And my first payment is contingent on learning how to set them up."

The wizard that was bragging a moment ago just shook his head. "You know, if it was anyone but Harry Fuckin' Potter, I'd say you have no chance in learning to set up anti-apparation wards in two weeks. How much you earning as a bonus for learning that?"

Luna walked up to the group and chimed in before they could badger Harry into answering. Not even the men they worked with knew what they were promised, and it was probably for the best. "Harry! You changed your middle name? Can I change my middle name too? How about Snarf? Luna Snarf Lovegood. No, just doesn't have the right ring to it. Maybe Gonzoopera? Luna Gonzoopera Lovegood..."

Harry suppressed his smirk. Luna was one of the best when it came to running interference. Once she got started, she could annoy anyone she wanted to endlessly. For not the first time, Harry wondered if Luna's brand of crazy really was a defense mechanism, if she were truly insane, or if she just enjoyed to annoying people. The more he watched her, the more he was convinced that she truly did enjoy annoying people.

Sergeant Hernandez joined in before Luna could really get going. "He's not the only one whose going to be busy the next two weeks. We're going to have one of the local Wizards throwing their shields around things, and we'll see what it takes to bring the shield down. We've even got a bunch of custom bullets in exotic materials to see if there's anything the shields don't stop. We got some genuine dragon skin to put through some testing, to see if our bullets can penetrate it. Expect to long days at the range boys."

xxxxx

_April 3rd, 1999_

"Sgt Hernandez Reporting as ordered, sir!" Sergeant Hernandez stood at attention, eyes fixed firmly on the wall above the Colonel's head.

"At ease Sergeant. In fact, take a seat. This entire unit is fucked up from the ground up, may as well get into the swing of things."

Hernandez smiled and took the seat. Colonel Richards was never big on pomp and ceremony, and kept it to a minimum. It made working for the man a great deal easier. Colonel Richards was the man ultimately in charge of the program, reporting directly to General Clark, the 'Supreme Allied Commander Europe', or SACEUR for short, of NATO. Meaning he was one step removed from the most powerful man actually in NATO. Should NATO ever truly mobilize, he'd have more military power under his command than any other man in the history of the world.

"First, congratulations. You're being frocked to Sergeant First Class. I'm putting in a waiver for you as well, so in about a month, it'll also be your official rank. Congratulations on the promotion. In about two weeks, we expect to have two more wizards, and two more squads. You'll still be the squad sergeant for first squad, and you'll also be the Platoon Sergeant. You'll also be acting Platoon Leader until we decide if we need to bring in some poor LT for the job, or if we can train up Harry enough to take over the job. As I said, fucked up from the ground up."

"Thank you sir."

"Considering how many hats you're wearing, I'm surprised you're thanking me instead of trying to leap over the table to strangle me." Colonel Richards chuckled. Then he pulled out a thick folder from his desk. "Now, the real reason for this meeting. This is the file you haven't read on Harry Potter." Pulling out one more, but not nearly as thick, he placed it next to him. "And this is the file you haven't read on Luna Lovegood. I'll summarize it. Luna Lovegood is batshit insane, but it's probably at least partially an act, making her only insane. Harry Potter is Batshit insane and repressing his emotions to much that he's inevitably going to be a threat to anyone and everyone in probably a fifty mile radius once he finally blows. He also has a nasty habit of thinking _everything_ is his fault. I'm pretty sure you could convince him that World War Two was his fault for not being born early enough to stop it from happening."

"Sir? Should you be discussing their medical history with me?"

"No, I shouldn't. But you need to know, and I need to know. You've spent a few weeks with them, do you agree with the assessments? I want the unbiased opinion of a man that did more than ask them questions for twenty minutes."

With a grimace, Hernandez nodded. "Sir, Harry puts on a brave face in front of the troops, but he just repressing his emotions. I've caught him a few times by surprise, and his brave face is gone. Once he's on his own, either he's crying, or he has enough anger rolling off him that it's actually hard to breathe. I don't mean that as a figure of speech either sir, it actually becomes physically difficult to breathe."

"What about Luna?"

"Her own squad sergeant could tell you better sir. I'll tentatively agree, but I think it's more act than actual insanity. She's also hiding her emotions in front of the troops. What brought them here left a serious mark sir, and I'm worried about them. I think they're doing this for all the wrong reasons. They _want_ to hurt and kill people, not protect people."

"That's more accurate than you think. They finished their class a couple days ago. Care to guess where they are?"

"We were just told they were taking a couple days off."

"I'm sure a smart man like you can guess what they're doing. I don't think it's healthy at all, and if you even _think_ they're losing it completely and becoming a danger to us, let me know immediately. I don't think it'll happen, but I want to be forewarned if it does happen."

"And what could we do if he is sir? The mans reflex's are inhuman and he's dangerous as all hell if you're on the wrong side of him. I've asked a few of the local wizards as well after that last wargame. They said they wouldn't challenge a healthy Harry Potter, even with fifty wizards. They're under the impression that if Harry was trying to hurt them, he would have steam rolled them all."

Colonel Richards chuckled. "You're more right than you think. We've run a few tests. Wizards in general seem to have abnormally fast reaction times, averaging about three quarters the reaction time as normal human averages on every test. It's likely why they prefer close range combat. Harry Potter however, has a reaction time average half that."

"Wait, Harry has actual inhumanly fast response times?"

"That's what sets him apart from the rest. The science geeks think Wizards have a faster reaction time due to their magic. Looking over the situation and what sets Harry apart from other wizards, they think that whatever it is that their magic does to increase their reaction time was turbo-charged when he survived the killing curse the first time. According to all we know, he's always been faster than other wizards with his reaction time. Then he survived the killing curse again, and it was basically someone strapping a super-charger to his already turbo-charged nervous system. Tell me, did you find him just better and faster than other wizards, or more powerful?"

Hernandez was quiet for a moment, thinking. Remembering the various fights, concentrating on the spells. How powerful, how often he could cast. "Sir...thinking back, I think he's a little bit stronger. I'm not an expert on magic, but he's capable of casting more spells than the other wizards, in the same time period, while maintaining the same strength. He hasn't shown any incredible power that justifies the faith other wizards have in him though."

"Correct. We've averaged the power of many of the local wizards. Using that average as a baseline of one hundred. The majority measures between ninety-five and one hundred and five. Luna pulls in at one-twelve, making her the fourth strongest we've measured. Harry pulls in at a one-twenty-one, beating the second strongest in this first test group by two points. It's a linear scale, so he's twenty percent stronger than the average 'trained' wizard. The government is interested in finding out how much power the 'average' witch and wizard has however. This is where it gets interesting. It cost a pretty penny, but we managed to get diverse groups of civilian magicals to be tested. The strongest magical we found was a housewife, Molly Weasley. She measured in at an astonishing two-fourty-seven, beating the second strongest by over fifty points. In fact, removing outliers, anything above one-fifty or below fifty, the average housewife scored at one twelve. In fact, the magicals scored so far across the board, that we had to average them by occupation for meaningful numbers. The over all average was eighty two, but the data points were far from each other that it was a meaningless average.'

"What do you mean sir?"

"Think of it as taking the average of five and five thousand. Sure, you'll get an average, but it's just a meaningless number. Only two of the test subjects where within plus or minus five points of the average. Apothecary's weighed in at an average of seventy three, Auror's and other magical law enforcement weighed in at an overall average of one-oh-one. Housewives at one twelve weighed in the highest, but also seemed to have the worst skill at anything but household magic. Spell crafters averaged one-seventeen, but only had a single data point, so we don't count them yet. When it's broken down by occupation, there's always a few outliers, but the majority of the data points are within ten points of the average. Again, housewives seem to be the exception, but there's a strong correlation between power and number of kids. Fresh graduates from school also score higher than average, irregardless of their job."

"Sir, so magic is basically a muscle? The more you use it, the more powerful it is?"

"That's what the current conclusion is, with only a couple folks seeming to have a predisposition to having much more powerful magic. The occupations that use the least magic score pretty low. Housewives with kids use a great deal of magic maintaining the home. In fact, some of the feats of magic housewives pull off boggle the mind. Molly Weasley maintained five separate spells while testing, while admonishing the testers for letting the area get so messy. No one really bat an eye lash at it either. One of the Auror's just shrugged and said his wife did that all the time too. They don't seem to realize that after a few years, housewives are magically the most powerful people in their society. It also seems that power doesn't translate very well into their fighting ability. Duelists weighed in at one-ten, think their version of professional boxing. Europe's current dueling champion showed up just out of curiosity, and brought half their dueling league with him. He scored in second lowest of the duelists, at one-oh-three."

"Makes sense. Strength help, but skills helps more."

"Pretty much. But over all, it paints a picture. People are _afraid_ of Harry, and I'm not sure if that fear is justified. He's above average, but not insanely so. His reaction time means he's probably unstoppable one on one, and probably one of the best wizards in a fight. Yet, they act as though he's some sort of primal force of nature. I'm telling you this for a reason. Don't get complacent. Just because he can strike fear into the hearts of wizards by existing doesn't mean he's the best. I don't think he's nearly as good as the wizarding world thinks he is, and I'm afraid he knows he isn't as good as they think he is. This entire project was expecting to capitalize on Harry being an unstoppable force of nature that the magical world thinks he is. I'm afraid if we ever walk into a fight and don't handily win it, the wheels will come off the whole thing. Europe has a few civil war going on now, but most are still worried about what Harry is going to do when he's all better. It's circulated pretty well that Harry practically had a foot in the grave when his wedding was crashed. Should he go down in a fight a second time, everyone will know he isn't as good as they fear. The magical world is just a step away from pure chaos."

"If you're telling me this, I'm assuming you have some sort of suggestion?"

"I do. You guys are going to make damn sure he becomes as good as people think he is. If need be, you you make damn sure your squad knows to jump in front of something that's going to take him down. If Harry goes down, you can bet your ass that a full blown war between us and the magicals is only years away. Alright, I've taken enough of your time sergeant. Get back to your boys. You got more training coming up."

It wasn't until Hernandez was dismissed that he realized how neatly Colonel Richards sidestepped the question. What _could_ they do if they felt Harry was becoming a threat?

xxxxx

_August 31st, 1991_

As Harry leaned back into the library's couch, he thought on how to best help Hermione. Never had he seen a more eager student. Truth be told, he couldn't help but compare her to himself. Systematic abuse by an uncaring system had left her with serious self esteem issues. That's about where the similarities ended. Harry let the world beat him down. He let himself be crushed under it. He threw pity parties. Certainly, even now, he couldn't truly blame himself. He wouldn't hold it against someone else if they pitied themselves after such a life.

But Hermione? She felt she was worthless, her life meant nothing. Dumbledore made the same mistakes with her that he made with him. Except, unlike Harry, Hermione wasn't going to lay down and be a victim. She hardly left the library. She was _learning_. Sirius already gave her permission to take what books she wants with her to Hogwarts, as long as she brings them back.

Harry confronted Voldemort in the back of Quirrels head. It was quite clear then and there, that Voldemort wanted Harry dead. What did Harry do second year? Ignored studying until Hermione practically did his homework for him. Harry confronted Voldemort again at the end of his second year, and a giant basilisk as well. What did Harry do after surviving by sheer luck? Let Ron talk him into taking the must useless classes. Once again, he rarely studied on his own or did his homework until Hermione practically did his work for him. The only time he did something pro-active was learning the Patronus. As a third year student. Why? Because it hurt to hear his mother die every time a dementor was around. Threats to his life though? Who cares. What about the Tri-Wizard Tournament? Harry would have certainly studied and trained hard for that, right? Nope. If Hermione didn't take his side in the argument with Ron, Harry would have been even less prepared. Harry didn't do anything to prepare for the tournament really. It was almost all Hermione trying to keep him from dying, and Barty Crouch trying to make him win. It wasn't until Cedric died that Harry got off his ass and actually tried to become a better wizard. It only took years of knowing, even if he never admitted it, that he would have to fight the most feared wizard of all time before Harry started to learn. By then, it was too late. He won by a fluke of magic, nothing more.

Hermione? She wouldn't speak of exactly what happened. It was obvious, but there was more to it than just that. Harry finally managed to weasel it out of his dad when he was drunk after yet another argument with his mom. He, and the marauders in general, were alcoholics, and talkative when drunk. Hermione wasn't a passive victim. One of the boys that hurt her? He didn't hold her down well enough. She killed him with accidental magic. She was rescued from the police who were holding her for murder, even if she was a shoe in for self defence. The act weighed heavily on her, though she was only sorry she killed him because someone had altered the minds of the boys who attacked her, and everyone else there. They didn't chose to do what they did, they were _forced_ to. Someone destroyed innocent lives to get to _her_.

For all that, for as much as she threw her own pity party for herself, she had an overriding need. _Never again_. She refused to be a victim. She refused to let the world keep her down. For the little piece of himself he could see in her, shy and the worlds punching bag, he could see a great deal of his Hermione in her too. A thirst for knowledge. The need to know. An intelligence that was unmatched by anyone Harry ever met. Unlike his Hermione however, who wanted knowledge for the sake of knowledge, she wanted it for a reason. She wanted, no, needed power. The power to defend herself. Judging by the way she jumped in front of a spell meant to kill him, he'd also say the power to defend others.

It was almost a week after the Battle of Diagon Alley, as the Daily Prophet called it, before Harry was in good enough shape to walk around. Fawkes cleaned up most the wounds, but phoenix tears didn't help much against the exhaustion caused by overwhelming potion abuse used to overcome exhaustion. He was actually quite glad of that to be honest. Hermione and Iris told him of the fight James and Lily got into when they got home. It sounded bad enough that he was quite glad to be unconscious at the time. They were literally sleeping in separate rooms now.

In a way, Harry had to agree with his mom. What little experience he's had so far told him that Lily was trying to be a mother, but James was useless as a father. He just didn't care. None of the Marauders did. Harry didn't mind in his case, he was eighty after all. A healthy middle aged wizard. He didn't need a mother and father to fret over him like the eleven year old they think he is. Yet, he couldn't help but see just how poor of a parent James was. The Marauders themselves were a terrible influence. Harry could certainly tell why everyone thought he was headed to a bad end. He could tell that this worlds Harry was pretty much a Malfoy. No one would tell him what he did was wrong. He never learned right and wrong. He got away with almost anything he did.

Hermione was being raised the same. No one in the house put any restrictions on the books, or gave her any real supervision. The first week they moved in, the library was off limits to her unless she was accompanied. They let her pick books out, they made sure there were no curses on them, and let her take them with her. Once they declared the room 'safe' and free of curses, Hermione practically moved in. No supervision at all. Harry had to take it upon himself to 'guide' her studies as well as he could. He didn't buy into that whole line of dragon dung that so many witches and wizards were fond of, about the dark arts being corrupting. To him, it was merely keeping the kerosene and matches out of reach of children. Hermione was eleven after all, and Iris was ten. Let them learn to use their magic before they try turning someone inside out. Even then, he'd gladly point them into much easier lines of study that would help them defend themselves. The Dark Arts were pure intimidation after all. True combat effectiveness was found in simple lightweight easy-to-cast charms. While you're trying to melt someone's eyes, Harry could kill you seven or eight times.

"Harry!" Harry's head snapped up to look at who was talking to him.

"Finally! I only had to call your name five times." Hermione took a seat on the couch next to Harry, having dropped a small stack of books on the coffee table. Crookshanks, ever faithful kitten, was riding her shoulder again, like he was trying to read her books. Iris pushed the table closer to the couch before dropping onto the other side of Hermione and putting an arm around her. If they were older, Harry would almost swear those two were dating. Iris, he found out, was a very affectionate girl. She had an almost obsessive-compulsive need for physical touch. She often reached out and touched Harry, just to make sure he was still there, likely because she already watched him die once. She just seemed excited to have a sister in Hermione. Since the alley, Hermione was more accepting of physical touch as well. At least from Iris, Lily, and Harry. He still suspected that there was another influence at work that made her open up to him though. She seemed to tolerate the small touches from the marauders at least. A hand on the shoulder here, ruffling of her hair there. She was getting less uncomfortable with it as time went on. He could tell just how much effort she put into hugging Alex.

"Sorry Hermione, I was thinking."

"What about?" She slid a book over to Harry. Between the Black Library and their school books, they had enough copies of the books Harry asked them to get for all three to have their own.

"I'm just worried about mum and dad. I don't think dad's been sober since I woke up."

Iris grimaced. "I don't think dad's been sober since he carried you back home covered in your own blood with holes in your dragon hide armor. Mum's been drinking pretty heavily too. More so than usual. Especially since they found out our home was burned down."

Hermione wrapped an arm around both Harry and Iris and pulled them both close to her. "It'll be alright."

"I don't know Hermione. Mum's got a point, dad almost got you both killed. The only reason you're alive is because Michelle Fuller showed up. Dad could have just told Dumbledore! He would have shown up! The fight would have ended as soon as it started!"

Hermione scoffed. "The old man that took me from those in my mum's will to be my guardians, then had the gall to abandon me? What use would he have been?" Crookshanks purred and rubbed his face against Hermione's cheek, in an attempt to calm her.

Iris deflated. She really had no answer to that. Mum still had an unwavering faith in Dumbledore. Hermione and dad had a loathing of the man. Harry didn't seem very happy with the man either. The more she saw, the more she thought Lily was wrong about the man. What evidence she had, showed Dumbledore failing.

"I'm just glad Michelle showed up just in time." Harry grabbed his book, and opened it. He didn't actually think her timing was coincidence. It was too convenient. And she seemed a tad too friendly with Fawkes, who was a tad too interested in him. In all, it made him uncomfortable.

xxxxx

Albus took another of his special lemon drops while continuing with his last minute paperwork. Laced with calming draught, it was remarkable how well they helped keeps things civil in his office. That he often needed to partake of a bit of calming draught himself was only a bonus. He feared he would never have the patience for all the paperwork he had to do without his lemon drops.

The past month had been, in a word, trying. It was one of the biggest gambles he'd ever taken. To help prepare the child of prophecy, to help remove muggle influence from the wizarding world, to bring together the wizarding world against a common enemy. He already failed Hermione. The circumstances showed him a way to cement the girls trust in him after his abysmal failure by letting things proceed. Albus expected a quick kidnapping of the girl from the Alley, not enough Auror's and Muggles defending the girl to fill a quidditch stadium. He expected James to bring in his friends, and MI5-M. Instead, James talked Moody out of retirement to protect the girl, talked MI5-M into bringing the military, and talked Amelia into letting him bring over a dozen Auror's.

Had Albus just owned up to his mistake, and attempted to make things right, he may have had a chance to have some sort of trust placed in him by the girl. Instead, he took a chance, it failed.

If Hermione didn't hate him, he would be surprised. Hate was a terrible emotion, and often led down roads best left untraveled, but Albus couldn't deny that sometimes, it was a justifiable emotion. His plans for the girl required her to trust in him. To have faith that he knew what he was doing. His desire to not change his plans led to him taking a foolish risk. Now, he needed a new plan. She may hate him, but he had to see to it that she became a beacon of the light. He had to find a way to make sure her hate doesn't corrupt her. He had to prepare her to face her destiny. She was to be the point the light rallied around. When Albus moved on, she was to be his successor. She had to be strong enough to survive, strong enough overcome the hocrux inside her. Strong enough in character to stand against the dark.

Then, there was Professor Quirrel. He applied for the DADA position. Albus 'suggested' he take a trip to Albania to get some practical experience. Albus 'knew' Voldemort was behind the darkness that took over the area. Instead of baiting his trap, Quirrel died, slain by a coterie of vampires, of all things. The man actually had a statue dedicated to him in a village, for freeing it from the vampires, and inspiring them to defend themselves. The man died a hero. Albus was sad he sent the man to his death, but happy he at least died a hero. Unfortunately, it meant the trap went unbaited. Even worse, in it's own way, was that Michelle Fuller showed interest in replacing the man as a professor. He couldn't turn her down, as he lacked other applicants. She brought his old companion, Fawkes, as well. Or perhaps Fawkes was taking an interest in England again, and brought Michelle? It was hard to tell with those two.

In fact, the only bright side of the past month was that the muggles were humiliated, and even that silver lining came with it's own dark clouds. He never meant for so many of them to die. They proved every bit as inept as people thought they were. Hermione was systematically abused in one of their institutions, MI5-M was nearly wiped out to a man in the battle and England proved unreliable. Witches and wizards all over England started to lose trust in the Crown. It only cost Dumbledore what little reputation he had left, but if it stopped the fragmentation of wizarding society, it would be worth it, Merlin damn his soul. Either he got the muggles out of the wizarding world, or the wizarding world would become the slave of the muggle world.

Looking up, Albus pulled a bottle out of a drawer of his desk. The mirror above his door showed his visitors, Minerva and Michelle. Peaceful relations with Michelle practically required a bottle of strong drink. Opening the door, Minerva strode in before giving him a dirty look for the bottle. She'd caught him drinking a couple times the past month, as bad news piled on top of bad news.

"Albus! Put that bottle away! The term starts tomorrow. Miss Fuller is here. What do you think she's going to say when she see's this?" Albus sighed. Minerva was so disappointed when she caught him drinking. The past month, she's been unbearable really. She always expected perfection of him, to live up to her image of the Great Albus Dumbledore. Sometimes, he wished he really could live up to his reputation. Live up to the expectations. He remembered the eleven year old girl that nearly idolized him when he taught transfiguration. He remembered the young woman that thought the world of him when he defeated Grindelwald. He remembered the widow that looked to him for guidance in the fight against Voldemort. That proud woman was reduced to giving him dirty looks the past month.

"I expect her to say 'thank you' Minerva."

"Albus!" Minerva looked scandalized. She may have revered him, but she nearly worshiped Michelle. Most witches did. Until they met the woman. He didn't expect her faith in the Michelle as a hero to last beyond the first week of term.

"It's alright Minerva. Normally, he'd be right. If I wasn't trying to stay less drunk for this job, I'd be wasted instead of just sloshed. I'll take it as the tacit permission it was to teach drunk. Albus, we need to talk." Albus groaned. He wondered where she had been. She should have talked to him over a week ago when he learned she took part in Diagon Alley. If she felt it was important to talk now, he probably wouldn't get any sleep tonight before finishing his paperwork.

"Minerva, if you could leave us please?" Minerva sighed and shook her head, before walking out as Michelle just collapsed into the chair.

"Lemon drop?"

"Don't mind if I do. You should have a few yourself. Nothing like a good old laced lemon drop for the calming effect." Michelle chuckled as she took a few. She may always give the old man shit, but sometimes he had good ideas. Just he had so much power, that when he screwed up, he screwed up big time. That was why she avoided any position of authority like a bad case of the dragon pox.

"You're late Michelle."

"Oh stuff it old man. I've had a pretty shitty stay in country so far. You know how many people I just watched die, again? It's like I'm repeating all the mistakes over again, only for a reason this time. Merlin damn that bird, but he wouldn't let me interfere until the last possible moment!

"Fawkes? He was there?" Taking a few calming breaths, Michelle sat back into the chair, trying to keep her temper in check for a moment.

"Yes. He seemed interested in a wizard. He wanted to watch him. To judge him. Do the whole 'look at me, I'm a mysterious phoenix, feel honored because you're too stupid to realize what it means when I take an interest in you'. Fawkes even gave a feather for his wand. I still owed Fawkes too much to not do as he asked. For that damn bird, I watched people die. I'm quite upset with him too." Even with the laced lemon drops, Michelle's anger was nearly suffocating. A lesser wizard would soil themselves. Albus was too used to her take any notice, and a phoenix testing someone was too important to ignore.

"Who is it, this man that has a phoenix interested in him?"

"The Potter kid. Both me and Fawkes watched the kid do YOUR damn job and protect the girl. He even stopped and helped six other girls get out of the fighting. How do you think I'm going to feel Albus, I'll have five of those girls as students starting tomorrow. I have to look at them, and pretend I didn't nearly let them die because a fucking bird asked me to." She certainly wasn't going to tell him exactly what she saw the boy do. That was a conversation she was going to have with Potter once he got to Hogwarts. It crossed her mind to collapse the Fidelius charm around the Black Manor, but no one knew it was even possible. No reason to let the world know differently to have a conversation a few days sooner. "You know, I kind of like that Potter kid. Makes me wish I knew how to actually kill a phoenix, before it gets the brat killed."

"It's odd for a phoenix to take an interest in one so young."

"Oh? And it isn't odd for me to take an interest in one so young?"

"Only disturbing."

"What's that supp...oh Albus, you asshole." She popped another lemon drop in her mouth. "Maybe in another five years, if he lives that long."

"I now wonder if I should set up the married quarters after his OWLs."

Michelle wrinkled her nose in thought. "No Albus. If it comes to it, I'll just give him a portkey to my bedroom. I think I'd rather keep it secret if I'm screwing a student. Besides, I'm not the marrying type."

"I do hope you're joking."

"What? Have you ever heard of anti-apparation or anti-portkey wards I couldn't just blow through?"

"I was more concerned about your interest in the boy then your ability to break through wards."

"Oh. That. Yea, I was joking. I don't think he'll live long enough to sit his OWLs. Pity, I bet he'd be an attentive lover."

"Michelle!"

"Enough. I refuse to be lectured by an old fool." Michelle grabbed the bottle on the desk, and read the label before opening it up and taking a swig. "Bad habit, that. You don't actually drink this, do you?"

"A habit I unfortunately picked up from you."

"Bullshit Albus, I drink until I'm dead to the world. You drink until the world crushes you. Had you really picked it up from me, there'd be several empty bottles here, and some used needles. I bet you've spent the past month miserably drinking when you think you can get away with it, but staying sober enough to go over every decision you've made the past century, and probably talked yourself into some contradicting positions that you somehow found acceptable like 'Oh, I got all those people killed, but good thing they died, because it advanced my cause, but woe is me'. Me? I've spent the past forty-six years blacked the fuck out. I've fucked, I've puked, I've cried, but I've _never_ tried to justify my actions, even to myself. You're no better than me, you can't justify what you've done as the top wizard any more than I could justify what I did as the top witch. And yet, you never stop moralizing, stop justifying the horrible atrocities you've committed. Either quit, or learn your lesson and move the fuck on."

"What gives you the right to even compare what I've done to what you have done? I keep as many people alive as I can and make the best or terrible situations, you just wave your wand and kill people in droves, carefree of the greater consequences. I'm trying to make the world a better place, and see to it that the next generation has someone ready to take over when I die, or am too old to continue protecting the people."

"The fact that even with your fancy wand, I could still gut you like a fish, gives me that right. At least when I kill people, _I_ kill them. In your own way, you're worse than I ever was. Even Grindelwald had the fucking balls to kill someone personally, instead of pretending his hands are clean, you fucking coward. Just remember why I kill people in droves, as you say. When I didn't, _even more died! _I entrusted the future to the world, tried to tell myself I needn't fight anymore after killing Aldric in Tunguska, _and the fucking Americans vaporized cities _because I let things get that bad. No Albus, if anyone understands the greater consequences of action, or inaction, it's me."

"That's just it Michelle, you cut and run, even before Tunguska. You were always running. You tried to hide in the middle of nowhere. How did that work for you?"

Michelle scoffed. "As if _you_ wouldn't? Aldric wanted me for whatever passed for reason in his addled mind. Would YOU have stayed and fought? For fucks sake Albus, Muggles have documentaries about that fight! They think it was a damn meteor! Do you realize the kind of power that man had? Fucking _Merlin_ would have shit himself if Aldric wanted to fight him! Imagine how many would have died if I stayed and fought somewhere other than the middle of nowhere?"

"What about afterwards Michelle? You had a duty as the most powerful witch of the age. At least I don't hide from my duty, even if I don't perform it to your exacting, ever changing specifications. A duty you only once attempted to perform."

Michelle stood up with a grimace. "You know, Albus, you're an asshole." She opened the door, to a find a startled Minerva getting ready to knock. "Sorry Minerva. You can have him back. I'm done talking with the old man."

Gently, Michelle pushed her out of her way and stepped out.

"Michelle. We can choose to do what is easy, or what is right. I'm only trying to do what is right, no matter how difficult."

"Albus. The truth is, I never wanted to touch another wand after Tunguska. I knew what I would become. I disappointed myself by being right. We are above the law Albus, and I abuse that fact too regularly. As much shit as I give you, it's because of that. The law only ever applied to you because you let it. You have too much power Dumbledore, to bandy about in the dark with it. Just pick up your wand sometime, and actually use it."

"And what would you have me do Michelle? You berate me for not being like you with one breath, then tell me to not be like you the next."

"To be careful. To listen to me rant like the crazy lady I am. To humor me. To act directly when need be. So much death would have been prevented had you remembered this one simple fact. We are above the law. You should have grabbed Hermione, and placed her where she needed to be, instead of hiding her like the coward you are. If ever there was a situation where being above the law could have been used instead of abused, that was it. Instead, you squander that privilege on petty bullshit, but never use it when it counts, because then people would know. You always were a coward. Afraid to do whats necessary, but all too willing to sacrifice others because it's 'right'. Tell me, what is your plan for the girl? Don't answer that, I'm afraid I already know."

As Michelle left to her quarters, she shared the same thought with Albus. _This is going to be a long year._

xxxxx

_September 1st, 1991_

Harry looked around the library. It looked as though great fire had swept through it, leaving the shelves of books charred, but the rest of the room was in pristine condition. Reaching out, Harry pulled one of the books out. He could make out the title, 'Family'. Flipping through it, he couldn't make out any of the pictures. Very few of the words themselves legible. Putting it back, he grabbed another one. 'Morals'. The cover of the book itself disintegrated in his hands, the remaining papers crumbling to his touch.

Shaking his head, Harry moved on, and into the next room. The first thing that stood out, was protective case in the center of the room, holding another book. The rest of this library wing looked the same as the previous. Stepping up to the case, Harry peered at the cover of the book in it. It was in pristine condition. 'Harry Potter'. A much smaller book was next to it, 'Hermione Granger', wasn't in nearly as good of condition, but still legible.

Harry was starting to think this was the craziest dream he had, wondering if he was trying to tell himself that he's an asshole and needs to spend more time with his family, and maybe be nicer. Except, that didn't make much sense. It was hard to spend quality time with an alcoholic, and most his time was spent with Hermione and his sister. Maybe his subconscious was upset at him for making this worlds Hermione a stand-in for his own wife? He was sure that if dimensional travel like this was more common, psychiatrists would have a long word to tell him it was a bad thing. Not that he cared, he did sort of promise to take care of her.

"I'm sorry Harry. I tried to fight it. I did." Hermione sat huddled in the corner, knees into her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, sobbing quietly. Except, this was _his_ Hermione. "In the end, this is all I have left. A few words here, a few words there, a small sense of self, and You."

"I'm not dreaming, am I?"

She waved at the Library. "All my knowledge. This is just one room of many. They all look like this. I don't know if you're dreaming Harry, or if this is something different. I can feel it, I should know. I should have an answer. If I should have an answer though, it shouldn't be a dream? Should it? What did I do Harry? What could have caused this? What was I fighting? It _hurts_ Harry."

Harry knelt before the sobbing woman, and pulled her into a hug. He wasn't dreaming. This was all that was left of Hermione. Harry just held his sobbing wife, running a comforting hand across her back, and she held him tightly. He had no answers for her. It was even more a mystery for him. His day started like any other. A cup of tea, watch the morning news, pretend he was actually making decisions. By nightfall, Hermione butchered her own soul, gave the remnant to him, and sent his soul off to another world. He had no answer, only questions. He couldn't answer her questions, but he could hold her, and let her cry. He could let her cry. He could cry with her. For just here, and with just her, could he truly be himself, let his true emotions show.

xxxxx

"Harry! Wake up! You're running late!" Iris and Hermione were both trying to shake him awake. Tiredly, Harry opened an eye to both the girls shaking him, and Crookshanks licking his face.

"I'm up, I'm up..." Harry rolled over and put a pillow over his head, gently nudging Crookshanks away from his face. He was tired. After that sort of night, he felt he had a right to sleep in.

"Well, not that I'd mind if you miss the express. It's going to be lonely without you two here."

Hermione slipped an arm around Iris. "Don't worry, you'll be with us next year. Oh! Before I forget!" She pulled out a piece of parchment and dropped it on Harry. "You might want to look at that Harry."

With a sigh, Harry sat up and picked up the parchment. He knew he was tired, because he saw far too many zero's. Nope, that was the right count, there were two comma's there. "What the...?"

Hermione actually giggled. "I talked James into setting up an expense account, so we can mail order stuff. Then I talked Sirius into adding to it."

"That's one hell of an expense account. Don't you feel guilty? He must have been wasted!"

"Um, that's about a percent of what Sirius has. It's a combined account for the three of us, so we can't spend it all. It's for supplies we might want. Also, he's letting us keep the dragon hide armor, and they're expecting us to wear it."

"You shouldn't take advantage of them Hermione." His heart wasn't really in it though. A no questions asked expense account tied to the Black Fortune?

"I didn't. I actually asked while they were sober, mostly. I laid out reasons why it would be a good idea, and they accepted them. I don't think James realized Sirius was going to put so much into it though."

"How'd you get them to put only us on the account?"

Hermione shrugged. "I think they know they'd rather have plausible deniability. James is also letting us take the cloak."

Iris rolled her eyes. "Well, at least I won't be lonely for long. You two should be expelled in time for the holidays."

Hermione pulled out another parchment. "Remus passed this along, and told me not to tell Lily. Peter gave me another, to give to you Harry." Pulling her wand, she tapped it while incanting "I solemly swear I'm up to no good!"

Harry's couldn't hide his shock. They gave them not one, but _two _Marauder's Maps! How irresponsible could they be?

xxxxx

"You sure that was a good idea Prongs? I know you're not really a responsible parent, but mark my words, they'll be expelled by Christmas. This is irresponsible, even of you."

James waved off Peter's concern. "Harry's going to get in trouble anyways. Without those, he'd be expelled by Halloween. I'm hoping him and Hermione get into some trouble, have some fun. Besides, I'm going to give them every advantage I can to keep them safe. I only wish I had a second cloak to send with them, and third to send with Iris next year."

"This is not one of your better parenting idea's." Sirius threw in.

"Oh, like giving them a million galleon expense account was one of your brighter ideas? It was supposed to be for the occasional book, some school supplies, occasional new clothes, and some spending money. I dumped in a few thousand Galleons, it should have been enough for all three of them until Iris graduated. Then you dumped in enough to make an even million!"

Sirius waved it away. "You know as well as I do, they're both still targets. If they need to spend money, I want them to be able to do it at a moments notice, not have to go through us. Besides, _Godfather_. Spoiling them is right there in the job description."

"They aren't ready for that responsibility! IF something happens, and they need to spend money without having time to go through us, the account will be empty by then!"

"Oh hush Prongs. Maybe you didn't notice, but Pronglet there grew up. You saw him after Diagon. You gave him a fools errand of a responsibility, and he nearly got himself killed carrying it out. Hermione didn't say much, other than they helped those girls at Fortescue's get away and kept her alive. I'll be watching the account. It may only have their names on it, but it's still part of the Black accounts. If they spend too much, I'll let them know, but I doubt they will."

Remus looked at the gathered men. "You ever get the feeling that we never grew up? That we're just trying to live vicariously through the children?"

Peter shrugged. "Just let them have some fun. I hear the Weasley's have twins in Hogwarts that are trying to live up to our reputation. Can't let the next generation be outdone by Weasley's, can we?"

"Lily's right, I am a terrible father. And that couch is getting uncomfortable."

"Couch? I thought you had your own room?"

"Lily transfigured the bed into a couch. I haven't been able to undo it. A very, very terrible couch."

"Mate, I don't think giving the kids two Marauder's maps, more gold than they can spend, and an invisibility cloak is going to make her think you're father of the year. How about spending more time with Iris over the year, and acting more like a Father than an uncle?"

"It's worth a try. I can't possibly do a worse job than I have been, can I?"

xxxxx

Irresponsible parent or not, Harry was impressed by James's ability with apparation. Remus, Sirius, and Peter went to the platform first, sent back a patronus signaling the all-clear, then Lily apparated to the platform with Iris. James took Harry, Hermione, Crookshanks, and both their trunks in a single side-along. Even Harry wasn't confident enough to side-along that much in one go. Not without a serious emergency.

Appearing on the platform, the small group was confused at why the Marauder's seemed so relaxed. Until Sirius pointed a thumb over his should.

"Unless Voldemort and Grindelwald combined into a one super-being, I don't think anyone's going to try anything." An old man was standing next to a middle aged woman. It took Harry a moment to realize who the old man was. He looked a great deal older than he did in how own world. The years were far less kind to the old man in this world. The woman was the same who helped him out in the alley.

"Dumbledore and miss Fuller are both here. I don't think they're taking any chances with the students." Lily let out a breath in relief she didn't even know she was holding, before hugging Harry and Hermione.

"Be careful you two. I won't tell you not to use the toys you were given. Just be careful. They may not realize it, but I let them give those to you for a reason. They can be very powerful tools to help you, should you find yourself in danger. I expect you to use them as such, if required. Harry, keep Hermione safe and out of trouble. Hermione, keep Harry safe and out of trouble." Lily looked at Crookshanks, again riding Hermione's shoulder. "And you keep both of them safe and out of trouble. I'll trust you to be responsible enough to keep yourself safe and out of trouble."

Harry and Hermione couldn't help chuckling while Crookshanks meowed in response before licking Lily. Harry wasn't the biggest fan of Crookshanks, but as a kitten, he was starting to grow on him. Pity in a year or so he'll be large and annoying. At least he was always a good judge of character though. Still, it was the ugliest cat he ever saw.

"Don't worry Mum, we'll be alright. We'll see you for the Holidays. Love you."

Iris stepped up to hug both of them next. She and Hermione seemed to really grow on each other the past week and a half. Truth be told, she grew on him too. He was going to miss his sister. "By sis! Keep mum and dad out of trouble, will you?"

"Prat. I don't think Merlin himself could keep dad out of trouble. Take care of her Harry. I'll be mad at you if you let something happen to her." Turning to Hermione, "Don't take none of his crap either. Be sure to smack him upside the head at least once a day, or his head might get as big as it used to be. Do try to make some other friends, ok? You'll go crazy if you have spend all your time around this prat."

Harry feigned a hurt look while Hermione giggled again. He had to admit, compared to how she was when he first saw her, giggling was a staunch improvement.

The Marauder's said their goodbyes next. "Alright you two, I understand there has been a bit of confusion about the expense account because someone who shall not be named, had a Sirius error of judgment. The account won't get refilled, do _not_ spend it all. That being said, don't tell mum about the maps, cloak, or expense account. I expect you two to be very familiar with the castle, and to use the map. If you even think something is wrong, the map will help you evade anyone until you can get help."

Taking a knee, James brought both the kids into a hug. Iris couldn't help to ruin the moment though. "Dad, mum already knows about all those."

James just groaned while the other marauder's snickered at him.

"Don't worry dad, we'll be fine. We'll watch out for each other."

"You both have your dragon hide on?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He wanted to reply with a sarcastic 'yes dad', but the sarcasm did lose effect when said to your actual father. So he settled for a subtle jab. "Yes mum. Even have clean underwear on."

The other marauder's busted out laughing. James tried to look stern, but failed miserably. "Alright son, just be careful. I don't want to see you hurt again, I've nearly lost you twice so far."

Standing back up, James wiped a tear out of his eye. "Alright you two, the Weasley's are already boarding the train, that means you're already late."

Finishing their goodbyes, Harry and Hermione boarded the train, deliberately avoiding walking past the Weasley's. Harry wasn't quite ready to meet his first wife again. He never did truly come to peace with her death.

Grabbing one of the few empty compartments, Harry opened the window in time to hear the Weasley twins say goodbye to Ginny. "We'll mail you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"

Harry couldn't resist. He stuck his head out and yelled to the twins. "I hope you plan on cleaning it first!"

"Honestly, Harry. Don't egg them on."

Sitting back down, Harry gave her a smile. "Why ever not? Did you want to mail a toilet seat to Iris first, and afraid those two will beat you to the punch?"

"Prat. I'll have you know, when I steal something from Hogwarts to mail to Iris, it'll be better than a toilet seat."

That got Harry thinking. Just how hard would it be to steal one of those suits of armor? He was _eleven_. He was going to be _bored out of his mind_ taking the Hogwarts curriculum when he could probably go toe to toe with Dumbledore. He may as well take advantage of that fact. Well, until third year at least. He never did bother learning arithmancy or runes to any sort of proficiency.

It was nearly an hour into the trip before anyone poked their heads in, Neville Longbottom. "Have any of you seen a toad around? I'm afraid I lost mine. Oh, hi Harry." Harry got up, with a smile. He shouldn't be surprised Neville knew him, his parents were friends of Neville's parents. Instead of smiling back, Neville seemed to retreat a little. Whatever experience he had with the _other_ Harry obviously wasn't good.

Putting an arm around his should, Harry didn't let him get away. "Hey Neville. Try asking a prefect or an older student, they should be able to summon him for you. It's a fourth year spell. I'd recommend asking a Hufflepuff though, they're less likely to be an jerk about it.

"Uh, alright Harry. Thanks...?" Neville slowly backed out.

"I don't bite. You're welcome to join us if you'd like?"

Neville shook his head before beating a hasty retreat. Harry just sighed as he watched him retreating down the hall.

Shaking his head, he went back to his seat, across from Hermione. They sat in silence for a minute before she spoke.

"Harry? Why do so many people seem to hate you?"

Harry didn't have an answer. _Oh, that's because apparently I'm some sort of uber-asshole. Only I don't remember being one, because that wasn't actually me. _Not exactly the best answer he could give.

"Because Harry used to be a right arse."

Harry and Hermione both spared at look at the student standing in the door. "Wotcher Tonks."

Tonks just scowled at Harry, using her own greeting against her. "Don't think I don't remember you setting me on fire. That was my favorite dress."

Harry shrugged. "Sorry? I can buy you a new one if you'd like."

"Oh? So what Sirius said is right? This is the first time you haven't run around yelling out my other name as loud as you can. Did you actually learn manners?"

Harry sighed. "Nearly dying multiple times has a strange effect like that." The near death experience was the excuse was the one his parents and the marauder's believed in, may as well make it the official story. "Listen, I'm sorry for being a horrible person before. I think I'm doing a lot better now. Iris and Hermione here seem to agree."

Tonks couldn't help her eyes as they tracked up to the scar on Hermione's head. Feeling nervous, she brushed her bushy hair to cover it.

"Please stop staring at her Tonks."

A brief flash of guilt crossed her face. "Sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Hermione just tried to sink back further into her seat. Whatever strides she made with Harry, Iris, Lily, and to a lesser extent, the Marauder's, wasn't helping her much with other people yet. At least, not intimidating people.

"Alright, I get it, I'll leave you two alone."

They sat around for another half hour or so in an uncomfortable silence before they were interrupted again. It started with quiet whispering from around the corner. He heard his name pop up a couple times already, but couldn't make out most of what they were saying. It wasn't important enough to use an eavesdropping charm either.

"You could just step in and say what you'd like."

"Oh Merlin, he heard us."

"Well, if you weren't being so loud."

"Hannah and Susan were the one's making all the noise!"

"Ladies?"

"Oh fine." Daphne walked in, trailed by Susan, Hannah, Padma, and Parvati.

"How's your sister?"

Daphne grimaced. "The healer wouldn't stop yelling about the amateur job you did. He had to cut her back open so he could properly clean it. She's going to scar permanently thanks to you. But, he also said she would have died long before then if you didn't help her. Thank you, Harry."

Harry nodded, before looking down. "I'm sorry I couldn't do a better job. I did what I could, with what I had."

Daphne pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for saving her. And us. Astoria doesn't blame you Harry. Neither do I or my parents."

Unwrapping himself, Harry moved all the way over to the window so everyone could grab a seat.

"I'm glad Astoria is alright."

"Harry? You're a lot different than you were last time your father brought you over."

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at Susan's statement. Of course Susan knows him. Her aunt was only his father's boss. "Sorry Susan."

"Don't be, I like this you much better. What happened though?"

"He nearly died jumping in front of a curse for Iris, then jumping in front of a curse for his mum." All five witches looked at Hermione in surprise.

"Oh, Harry! What happened?"

"Auntie said you were hurt while last month. Are you alright Harry?"

As the girls started gushing over him, Harry shot Hermione a helpless look. "Hermione, did you really have to tell them that?"

"I refuse to be the only one uncomfortable in here." With a skill that would make even Luna jealous, Hermione managed to make everyone else in the compartment uncomfortable with that one statement.

"Oh, Sorry."

"Harry, are you going to introduce us?"

With a roll of his eyes, Harry waved his hand towards Hermione. "Ladies, this is Hermione Granger. We didn't have much time for small talk last time, huddling behind an overturned table. Hermione, this is, and correct me if I get the names wrong, Padma and Parvati Patil. Susan Bones. Hannah Abbott. And Daphne Greengrass."

"Pleasure to meet you, but Harry got the twins backwards." Hannah was the first to stick her hand out. They all knew who she was of course, but it was only polite to be introduced, especially since Hermione didn't know them. Tentatively, Hermione stuck her hand out.

"If you ever get tired of hanging out with Harry here, you can always spend time with us instead."

Hermione almost looked offended. "What about Harry?"

Susan reached over, and ruffled Harry's hair for a moment. "Well, he did save us, he's more than welcome to spend time with us too. What house do you two think you're going to be in? I'm hoping I'm in Hufflepuff."

Harry shrugged. He was pretty sure he could talk the hat into sorting him to any house. "I'm not too picky. Just hoping I'm in the same house as Hermione here."

Hermione shrugged as well. "I don't have much of a preference. I guess Hufflepuff sounds as good as any."

Harry chuckled. "Iris is going to cry if we both end up in Hufflepuff, I think she has her heart set on Gryffindor."

"Hufflepuff? How useless could you be Potter?" Harry looked up at the latest 'guest'. Draco, with both Crabbe and Goyle following him around. If there was someone's whose shit he wasn't going to take, it was Draco.

"Listen, we can do this one of two ways. Either you can throw yourself out the window, or I can throw you through it Malfoy."

Draco just sneered at him. "As if you could, you're practically a squib Potter. I have to admit Daphne, I'm not surprised a Greengrass doesn't keep better company. A near-squib, two foreigners, two blood traitor's, and a mudblood whore. I could only hope some of you come to Slytherin, where I could teach you to respect your betters."

Harry opened his mouth, but he couldn't form words. _Malfoy_ just called him practically a squib. Possibly the most useless wizard he ever met, was talking shit about someone else's magical ability? Harry stood up, ready to redecorate the hallway with bits of Draco before Hermione put a hand on his arm. Her words came out quietly. "Don't Harry."

Malfoy just laughed. "Listen to your pet mudblood. You'll only get hurt if you try." The three of them walked off, laughing.

"Why'd you stop him Hermione? Harry could have wiped that grin off Malfoy's face!

She shook her head. They hadn't seen what Harry can do, not really. Harry wasn't going to wipe the grin off his face, he was going to kill him. "He wasn't worth it."

A slightly more irate Harry returned to his seat. It was a few minutes before the conversation started again. By the time they were approaching Hogwarts, Harry managed to find out a bit more about their new friends. He was right, in that they all became fast friends, banding together from a shared trauma.

Susan was kidnapped and put under the imperious to make the statement that even senior government employees weren't above being targeted. Hannah was grabbed as well, for no reason beyond she was with Susan. The Patil's were grabbed because they were Indian and their family were top importer's of foreign goods. The Greengrass daughters were taken because the Greengrass family was the top supplier of magical goods for MI5-M. Between the experience, and the time spent together with a healer, the five bonded as friends. The friends you make in foxholes are the friends you keep for life, after all. It also helped that they were regularly taking calming potions.

When it came time to don their robes, the girls took the opportunity to throw Harry out the room and corner Hermione.

"How'd you do it? You practically have him eating of your hand Hermione. It's so sweet." Hannah started off.

"I can still hear you, you know."

"Oh hush Harry, at least let us pretend we're gossiping in peace."

Harry stuck his head back in. "You alright Hermione? I can give you six some privacy if you'd like."

Somewhat more hesitantly than he'd prefer, Hermione nervously nodded.

"Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes, try not to divulge all my juicy secrets. The girls will keep coming back begging for more if you string it out over the year." Harry closed the door as a robe was thrown at him.

Harry didn't really have anything specific in mind to do. Thinking of how to kill a few minutes, he did the first thing to come to mind. Find the Weasley Twins. Because honestly, if he spent _all_ his time around a group of witches, he was going to go insane. Maybe he could build a Harem? Definitely wait a few years first. They were all _way_ too young for that. He somehow doubted he'd pull it off anyways. He'd just find his bits hexed off for trying. _Damn Harry, you are a dirty old man..._

Going down a few more compartments, he poked his head in. The twins were talking animatedly with another boy. Harry couldn't quite place his name. Who was their friend? Jordan? Micheal Jordon? No, that wasn't right. Lee Jordan! That's it.

"Oi! We have an ickle little firstie nosing in."

"Me thinks it's the one that yelled at us to clean the toilet seat before mailing it to little Ginnykins."

Harry smiled. "Oh Merlin! You really are the Weasley Twins! The greatest pranksters in Hogwarts since the Marauders!" Ok, so his acting skills needed work. At least his excitement to see them was genuine. "I just wanted to say, enjoy the top while you can. My father would be terribly disappointed if I don't end up in detention regularly, holding up the family honor. I'm afraid the next generation of Marauder's are going to outdo you this year."

"Oh brother of mine..."

"...I do believe we've just been challenged."

"The gauntlet has been lain..."

"...the challenge has been accepted."

Harry smiled. "Excellent! May the best prankster win!" An all out prank war with the Weasley twins should keep the mind numbing boredom from killing him this school year.

Harry could smell the alcohol before he heard the voice.

"You know, as a Hogwarts professor, I should probably do something to stop this sort of behavior." Michelle was leaning against the wall, not even two feet from him.

"Miss Fuller, good to see you again."

"Professor Fuller now. I must say, not bleeding to death on the ground is an improvement for you. Glad to see you trying such a bold new look."

"Thank you professor. I thought all my blood would clash horribly with the décor."

"How you feeling? The phoenix tears take care of everything?"

Harry nodded. "Good as new professor."

"So, that was a mean trick you played on all those witches in your compartment, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you mean professor?"

"Well Harry, I know the first time I saw a thestral, they found pieces of it in four states. Pretty rude to not warn them of the thestrals they'll see once we get to the station. Don't feel too bad though, I already warned them." Walking past, she waved a hand. "Toodles."

Harry wanted to lodge some sort of protest, but he already knew it was pointless. Harry just made his way back to his compartment. The girls were all talking excitedly still when Harry poked his head in. Hermione looked at him with relief on her face, glad to have him back. She was trying, but she was still having problems.

"Is it safe for me to return yet?"

"No boys allowed Harry!" Padma and Parvati answered at the same time, and stuck their tongues out at him.

"Good thing I'm a man. A manly man." That got giggles from the entire compartment as he went back to his seat across from Hermione, returning her appreciative smile.

xxxxx

Even with Michelle's warning, the ladies all still freaked out at the sight of the Thestrals. Harry didn't really blame them. They weren't cute and cuddly. Daphne saw them first and let out a shriek, drawing the attention of the rest of the small group, getting shrieks from all but Harry and Hermione. Hermione just latched onto Harry's arm. Most of the onlookers looked at them like the were crazy, except a seventh year hufflepuff. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a drag from it.

"All seven of you can see them?"

Harry looked at the guy. He couldn't recognize him, but that didn't mean much. He knew very few students from his own age range, and almost none of the older ones. "We had a bad time."

The older student chuckled. "Yea, I bet you did. I saw them my first year as well. I thought I was crazy, until an older student told me she could see them as well. Do you know why you can see them?"

Harry and the witches nodded.

"How did it happen?"

The girls didn't seem forthcoming to answer, so Harry answered for them. "We were all at Diagon Alley."

"That'll do it. Sorry to bother you."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did it happen for you?"

"It's only fair. My parents and sister were killed by Death Eaters. We didn't understand what was happening. Who these freaks in robes were, or how they could wave a stick and do things. I only lived because someone showed up and saved me." Taking another hit from his cigarette, he ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "You look just like him too. I owe your dad my life." Looking at Hermione, he smiled tightly. "Sorry for you loss. I know what it's like, growing up in an orphanage. I don't know what happened that night, or what role you actually played, but thank you."

"First years! First years over here!" Hagrid's voice boomed over the crowd, catching the attention of the first years.

"That's your cue. Don't mind the big guy, he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's a good man. Sorry Hermione, I can see I made you uncomfortable. Listen, some people are going to give you shit Hermione. Don't take it. Just let me know if you have problems you can't handle, I'll see to it they don't happen a second time. Same to you Potter."

Getting nods from both, he shoo'd them off towards Hagrid with a smile.

Splitting into groups for the boat ride, Harry shared his boat with Daphne, Hermione, and another first year girl who introduced herself as Su Li. She was a talkative little girl, muggle born and a recent immigrant to England. She seemed all too happy to be around people that weren't judging her for being both a foreigner and a muggle born.

As the boats took off, Harry had to admit, even to his old soul, the sight of Hogwarts as they crossed the lake was still a sight to behold. Judging from the sounds of awe coming from across the boats close enough to hear, everyone else held the same opinion.

"Watch yer heads!" Harry chuckled as the kids started ducking as they entered the cave, while Hagrid continued sitting upright. If Hagrid didn't have to duck, it wasn't likely anyone else did. As the boats landed, Harry stayed close to Hermione, helping buffer her from the ever closing crowd as the area narrowed, approaching the door. The other girls noticed what he was doing, and helped. After Hagrid passed them off to McGonagall, and they were dragged into a small room, Hermione again gripped Harry's arm for comfort, the press of bodies crowding around nearly bringing her to a state of panic.

McGonagall, oblivious to Hermione's discomfort, gave her speech about the houses before telling them to wait quietly while they prepare for the sorting and walked out.

"Hey scar head! Whats wrong? You scared of people?" All the attention Malfoy brought to Hermione made her even more afraid, because he was right. She was afraid of people.

"Shut up Malfoy! No one cares about your opinion!"

"Ah, you must be a Weasley. Red hair, freckles, second hand robes because your family has too many kids to support. I wonder what life must be like to be so poor that you need second hand robes. Tell me, is your wand second hand as well?"

Ron pulled his wand in rage, but Malfoy was quicker, hitting Ron in the hand with an overpowered stinging hex, making him drop his wand. "Such a Weasley. So quick to anger, but too useless to do anything about it." He turned back to Hermione. "So whats wrong scar head? Afraid someone is going to touch you again? Not that you have much to worry about there, who would touch something like you anyways?"

"Malfoy. I suggest you be quiet." Harry gripped his wand, ready to shut Malfoys mouth before Hermione panicked completely and started crying.

"Harry! Don't!" Too late, she was already crying now, but she held his arm too tightly for him to bring his wand up without knocking her down first.

"Listen to the pathetic mudblood squib. She's afraid for you, with good reason."

A scream broke the confrontation as the ghosts started coming through the walls. It had to be one of the best timed interruptions, because Harry didn't know how much longer he could take that confrontation before he just killed the piece of shit. Harry stood there fuming while Hermione was trying to get her crying under control. Most of the students seemed to share his opinion, but far too many for his taste shared Malfoy's.

McGonagall returned, telling the ghosts to move along. "Now, Form a line and follow me." Forming up, Hermione still clutched Harry like a life-line.

Leaning in, Harry whispered into his ear. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you." Reaching across with his free hand, he stroked her head lightly for a moment before the group started moving into the great hall. Harry tuned out the hats song while trying to keep Hermione comfortably out of sight. Thankfully Crabbe and Goyle were both in front, with Malfoy, so there was plenty to hide behind.

Harry watched the sorting with a detached interest. Hannah and Susan both went to Hufflepuff. A few more students he didn't really remember got sorted as well. Finnegan, one of his old dorm mates, went to Gryffindor again. Finally, it was Hermione's turn. The few seconds the hat took for most turned into a minute, then five minutes. People were starting to get antsy waiting for the hat to call out her house. Watching her face, Harry could tell she was arguing with the hat, and not liking what she was hearing. Finally, a satisfied smirk crossed her face as the hat yelled out "HUFFLEPUFF!" With a quick glance to the head table, Harry could see Michelle laughing, a look of shock crossing Dumbledore's face, and Flitwick sliding along a few galleons to Sprout. Snape scowled while sliding some along the table to her as well. Harry had a feeling from the look on McGonagall's face, she was going to be passing her a few galleons as well.

Daphne went next. Her sorting took not even thirty seconds before she was sorted into Ravenclaw. That excitable girl, Su Li, was the next person he recognized that was called. She Seemed of two mind, glancing at Ravenclaw, then Hufflepuff. Or more specifically, glancing at a person in Hufflepuff. Putting on the hat, Harry guessed she was having a quick argument as well with the hat. Thankfully, hers didn't last long before it called out Hufflepuff.

Harry kept his eye on Hermione, making sure she was alright. Both Tonks and the seventh year boy they met when they stopped were keeping an eye on her, while Susan and Hannah did their best to give her a bit of a buffer. Su Li managed to squeeze in right across from her, and was talking excitedly. _She's a freaking Creevy._ He couldn't help the thought, but it was fitting. She was acting like a complete fan girl. At least she seemed to be gentle enough about it that she wasn't freaking out Hermione. Yet.

Padma was called up. Again, she went to Ravenclaw. Parvati into Gryffindor. Finally his name was called. Walking up, Harry took a seat.

"I say. You're the third oldest person I've sorted."

"Wait, what?"

"Hahaha. Come now Mr Potter. Magic. You don't honestly believe you are the only person in the entire history of this school to show up under such circumstances, do you? You're the fourteenth person I've sorted whose been sorted before. It's amazing how only one of them wasn't surprised by it."

"Who was that?"

"Come now Potter, your secrets are safe with me. That means other peoples secrets are safe with me as well. I can speak in generalities, but I can't identify."

"So, Hufflepuff?"

"Slow down. I've got a lot to look through before we start talking about that. Hmm, that's not very good at all Potter. If it were in my power to do so, I would seek mental help for you. You do realize she isn't your wife, correct?"

"Yes, I realize that."

"No, you don't. No matter. Your courage is long spent. You stopped living long ago. Gryffindor is no longer your home. You have plenty of cunning. I'll offer you Slytherin again. Would you like it this time?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Pity. Can't say I'm surprised however. Comparing you to others in your age range, you're by far the dumbest person I've ever sorted. Yes, even those two monkeys you just thought of would know more magic by your age than you do. Your skill is undeniable, and many of your spells are unknown to this time and world, but studious you are not. I'm afraid I couldn't offer you Ravenclaw, even if you wanted it."

"I never realized you were such an asshole."

"I treat people as they are. You're an adult, I can be brutally honest with you."

"Thanks, I think."

"So you have no objection to Hufflepuff? You really are a Hufflepuff's Hufflepuff. Your loyalty is unmatched. So much so that you carry a piece of your wife's soul with you, to protect her from a fate truly worse than death. I suspect that fragment will drive you insane in time. You suspect it too."

"I do."

"And you still choose to carry it. You could remove it, even I can see that."

"I could, but I won't."

"Very well, then I shall place yo-"

"Hold on a moment, I have a question."

"Oh? Go on."

"You know that Hermione had a fragment of Voldemort's soul in her. Did you tell her?"

"Of course I did not. She wouldn't understand. I treated her as the eleven year old she is."

"I see. Let me posit another question. Is Hogwarts alive? Is it a.."

"Genius Loci? Yes. Amazing how few people notice. I suppose it's because so few people know of such things. This much purpose, this much magic, fed by the biggest ley line nexus in the Northern Hemisphere. It was inevitable that it should become aware. It likely goes unnoticed because it doesn't manifest a spirit."

"Who does Hogwarts currently owe loyalty to?"

"The Children, Potter. She is loyal to the children, as always."

"Not the headmaster?"

"The headmaster has special privileges, that is true. But Hogwarts owes him no loyalty. Once the Headmaster neglects his job, Hogwarts will remove him from his post."

"What about Snape? You saw my memories."

"Indeed, and he did his job. He protected the children to the best of his abilities. Hogwarts is a Genius Loci, not a God. Who won the Battle of Hogwarts, you or her? She knew Snape was her best chance to protect her young charges. Hogwarts now knows, and should such another battle come to her walls, she will aide you as best she can. I, however, say this. See to it that another such battle doesn't come to these walls."

"I shall try. I don't want to see half my graduating class buried before my graduation."

"One last thing Harry."

"Yes?"

"Good luck in HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Smart ass."

As McGonagall took the hat from his head, Harry joined his table. Hannah moved over without having to be asked so he could take his seat next to Hermione. The girls seemed to swarm, and Harry even got a pitying look from the seventh year boy that talked about the thestrals. As the girls started chatting again, Harry came to a realization. He was going to need to hang out with some guys at some point, because eleven year old girls were going to drive him insane.

**A/N: Before anyone asks, no, I'm not actually setting up a Harem for Harry. Sorry to disappoint. Anyways, as usual, let me know what you guys think. If you see something obviously wrong, let me know. You think I suck at writing, let me know. Can't improve if you don't tell me whats wrong after all. Otherwise, hope you enjoyed the latest entry :)**


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